Loving a Stranger
by altera vita mea
Summary: "You don't remember, but I know you. We were- I don't even know how to describe our relationship. That sounds bad, I know. I think you might have been in love with me, although I cannot see why. That's just what I've been told. I acted as though I hated you, but I never did. I was afraid, because you were kind to me. I didn't know I loved you until you forgot me..." Spamano
1. Chapter 1

_Loving a Stranger_

 _Chapter one: Sometimes Change Takes you by Surprise_

There are facts in life that will never change, and hell, it would be better if everyone just accepted them and moved on with their pathetic lives. Look at me. I have, for the most part, gotten over the fact that any person with half a brain would like my brother Feliciano more than me. And why wouldn't they? He's talented while I am useless, he's adorable and I'm sardonic, he's the one who's always getting showered with affection and love, and no one even notices me. Whatever. I don't even care anymore; I hate people anyway.

My cell phone vibrated from its place on my night table, causing my attention to shift away from the boring book I was reading. I turned down my radio so it was not blasting music loud enough to damage a person's hearing, until I could faintly hear the TV in the background, and checked the caller ID: _Tomato Bastard._ I groaned, knowing for a fact that Antonio wouldn't leave me alone until I answered the phone. He was notorious for that. "What the hell do you want, bastard?" I questioned as I received the call in a begrudging manner.

 _"_ Buenos tardes _, Lovi!"_ I flinched and held the phone a safe distance from my ear. That voice... It was so damn cheerful, way too loud, so obnoxious...

"Don't call me that."

 _"Aw, but Lo-vi!"_ That Spaniard was actually whining. _"I like calling you that!"_

"Like hell I care!" I shot back, glaring at my closed door. I could tell he was smiling. "What do you want?"

Antonio was still smiling, I knew it by the sound of his stupid voice- jerk. _"The guys and I are going to hang out, and I wanted you to join us."_

"Like I actually want to spend time with your gang of perverts!" I scoffed.

Instead of defending himself like any self-respecting human would do, he chuckled a little. _"So you'd rather be with your brother and Ludwig?"_ I didn't really have anything to say to that one: I despised that German with every fiber of my being.

It was then my attention was drawn to Feli's loud laughter coming from the living room. Something funny must've happened in their retarded movie. "That was a good joke, right Ludwig?" He asked when he got a hold of himself. " _Ja_ ," came the simple answer of the stupid potato-loving bastard. "Ve~ why don't you laugh?" My brother was pouting, and it was seriously making me sick. No one could say no when he stuck out his lower lip and blinked his sad amber eyes; it made people turn into putty in his hands. It was just another charm I didn't possess, although I wouldn't want it anyway. Can you imagine how ridiculous that would be?

 _"Well?"_ A voice asked through the phone.

I blinked in surprise; I had nearly forgotten Antonio was still on the phone. And that reminded me... "How do you even know Potato Bastard is here?" I sputtered, raising an eyebrow in suspicion.

He coughed slightly. _"Hm... I may or may not be parked in front of your house…"_

My eyes widened slightly at that level of creepiness. _No, he wouldn't..._ But now I was a bit paranoid, so just to be sure I walked over to my window and lifted a single blind. Much to my horror, there was in fact, that familiar car with a familiar Spanish idiot waving at me. _He would._ "You are so annoying, you know that?" I growled as I retreated from the window. "Fine. Since you obviously don't know your boundaries and you won't leave me alone until I accept your ball-sucking invitation, I'll go. Just give me a minute."

I hung up before he could respond and looked through my dresser in search of clean clothes. I didn't understand Antonio: he was still an enigma, even though I've known him for a little over two years. It was the summer of my senior year in high school when I met him. My grandfather had said it was high time I became productive, and forced me to work at this crappy, hole-in-the-wall pizza parlor. Don't get me wrong, I love cooking; it is one of the few things I actually enjoy in life. But I despised everything about that grease-coated hellhole. And I was not just being spiteful because Feli got to spend his summer painting and winning every art competition around. The pizza parlor itself sucked. It was filthy and it seemed like I came home every day glistening in grease, my fellow employees were bastards, and the customers were rude. Then that _stupido bastardo pomodoro_ waltzed in like he owned the place one day.

" _Hola!_ " He had said, smiling at me until his green eyes sparkled. "I know you! You go to my school, no? You had Ms. Schwanbeck for English last year."

"Yes I did, bastard, but that doesn't mean you know me," I retorted, earning a glare from that one annoying coworker who acted like he was my boss. "Lovino," he warned. I ignored him.

"Ah, your name is Lovino Vargas, right ?" The idiot in front of me kept rattling on and on in his Spanish accent about how much fun he had had in that class- in Schwanbeck's class? How stupid was this guy- and how hard it was to keep a straight face whenever I mouthed off at the teacher- which was often apparently- and that he couldn't wait till this year started so he could see if we had any similar classes. "You are going back this year?" He finally thought to ask; I guess he forgot that he had come to buy nasty pizza.

I frowned at him. "I was... But I'm seriously reconsidering it now."

He laughed. "Lovi you're too funny!"

 _Wait. What the hell did he just call me?!_ "Don't you fucking dare-"

"Oh! I'm Antonio, by the way. Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. My friends are waiting for me, so I have to go now, but I promise we'll get together and talk once school starts."

He kept that damn promise too, although I have no idea why he took an interest in me. I preferred being alone to being forced to spend time with him and his even more annoying friends, Gilbert and Francis. I hated all three of them.

I finally got dressed and exited my room for the first time today- if you don't count when I used the bathroom this morning. That had been before Ludwig showed with the nerve to cook lunch for Feli, now the entire house smelled like disgusting German food- _wurst_ is what I thought he called it. I couldn't stand the smell, it made me want to throw up food I hadn't eaten. My room was the only decent smelling place here.

I wanted to simply sneak out the front door, but it was impossible to do so without going past the living room. And as I did that, I noticed my brother's head resting against Ludwig's broad chest. Ugh, now I really wanted to throw up. "I'm going with Antonio for a bit," I grumbled as I walked past, clenching my fists to keep myself from kicking that German's ass out of my house.

Feliciano seemed oblivious to how much I hated his boyfriend, he really could be a blind fool. He sat up and paused the movie, and spacing the movement caused between the two of them allowed me to breathe a little easier. "Ooh! You're going with Tonio?" He asked, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he wiggled his eyebrows playfully. "Have fun, _mio fratello_."

My cheeks heated a bit. He was insinuating that this was a date, and I was going to smack him upside the head when the German left. " _Mio Dio_ ," I murmured, my eyes closing for a second. "Feli, his bastard friends will be there too."

Ludwig finally spoke up, giving Feliciano an odd look. " _Ja_ , he's talking about the-" but my brother's eyes widened and he shook his head slightly, and the potato was silent. "What?" I demanded, glaring at him. Ludwig shook his head. "Nothing important. I know that it is a regular outing because _mein Bruder_ gave me an earful about it yesterday."

I didn't exactly believe him: I never believed a word he said. "Hmph. Whatever. But if you touch my brother in any indecent way I will cut off your balls with a bread knife."

"I don't doubt it," he returned mildly. Unfortunately, I think my threats have stopped worrying him a while ago.

Feli still hated it though. "Lovino, please don't make threats like that, ve~" he sighed. "Luddy wouldn't hurt me! We've been together for nearly a year!"

I crossed my arms. "That doesn't mean anything. I'll see you later okay? And air out this damn house. It smells like rotting corpses!" Then I turned and marched outside.

Antonio had been looking at his phone, but he looked up when he heard me slam my front door shut and smiled his stupid, perfect smile. I wanted to punch it off of his face. I didn't; however, and simply slumped into the passenger seat of his car and ordered him to start driving.

He chuckled, but obeyed, turning the key in his ignition and pulling away from the curb. " _Hola, mi tomate!_ " He greeted brightly.

I glared at him. "For the last time: I. Am. Not. Your. Damn. Tomato."

"My, someone's cranky today," Antonio commented. "But that's normal; I don't think I've seen you in a good mood for longer than .5 seconds." I rolled my eyes at his obvious lie: he had seen me eating dozens of times, and unless I'm consuming foreign food I'm happy.

"I hate that potato bastard," I muttered for some odd reason. "I mean, I hate all bastards, but I think I hate him even more then I hate you."

"I would hope so," Antonio smiled: he was always smiling. "I think you might be afraid of him, Lovi."

"Hell no!" I shouted instantly, appalled by the very thought. "I just... I don't want Feli to get hurt," _like I did..._

"You don't think he can judge that for himself?" Antonio asked stupidly.

"Pffft. Yeah right. You're so dense. He can't judge anything when love is blinding him like shit in his eyes."

He shot me a sideways glance. "It's so cute how much you care for him," he informed me, reaching over and lightly tugging on the curl that stuck out to the side of my head.

My face immediately got hot at the intrusion. "Chigi!" I sputtered, slapping his hand away. "D-damn it you pervert!"

Antonio laughed. "I don't get it: you always react so strongly whenever I touch your curl. It's hilarious, but how does it make me a pervert?" He asked it innocently, looking as though he simply wanted an answer. I blushed even more and turned my head to look out the window.

"Watch the road stupid," I grumbled. "Now tell me where we're going. I swear, if it's another snail-serving shack Francis picked out I'm going to walk home."

"No, it's not that," Antonio laughed again, but it was different this time. His laugh seemed forced, heavy, and fake, as if he was trying to hide something. I raised an eyebrow, but I didn't say anything. That would have made it look as though I cared about him. He was going to tell me what was up anyway; he couldn't keep his mouth shut if it would save his life.

After a second or two, he pulled the car over. "Lovi, I need to tell you something important."

I wanted to snap at him for using that ridiculous pet name, but I somehow managed to keep my self control and glanced at him. "Get on with it."

Antonio's gaze shifted nervously from my face, to his hands. "I just... We're going to a going away party that Francis is hosting... In my honor."

 _So Francis is throwing him a party? But why is that so- wait. Going away? Antonio is leaving? Where, and for how long? Oh, it better not be too long, otherwise I'd be stuck with those two lovebirds in my house._

"Do you remember that one conversation we had last year?" He asked.

I immediately knew exactly what he was talking about.

About a week before our graduation, we- that would include Francis and Gilbert- were eating lunch, talking loudly in the noisy cafeteria. Out of nowhere, Antonio propped his arms on the table, leaning on them slightly. "Well _mis amigos_ , next week our lives change. What are we going to do about it?"

"Huh. Someone's being intelligent for a change," I grumbled.

He laughed, running a hand through his chocolate-colored hair. "But I'm serious. What are we gonna do with our lives?"

Gilbert spoke up first, smirking in a smug manner. "I'll probably become an awesome band leader!" He boasted.

I shook my head at him. "Don't you actually have to be skilled for that?"

"Kesesese! That proves how ignorant you are! Nowadays, one doesn't even need talent to be successful! All one needs is to be as hot as me, which makes one irresistible."

I wanted to point out that the girl in his science class- I think her name was Elizabeta- had been doing a fine job resisting the so called irresistible, but Francis was already talking.

" _Oui,_ that is true Gilbert. But I will be more than a pretty face. I shall become a famous fashion designer and people will come far and wide to buy my creations." His smile grew. "And then I will design something so hideous it caused anyone who gazes upon it to faint from the shock, and I will give it to Arthur and convince him it is the latest fashion!"

The others laughed at the insanity, clutching their ribs until they could hardly breathe. "I can see it now!" Gilbert gasped.

Antonio nodded, wiped his eyes, and turned to me. "What about you, Lovi?"

I shook my head. "There is nothing for me to tell," I said simply. It was true; all my dreams crashed and burned.

"Now tell us about you!" Gilbert order the Spaniard, poking the side of his head. "You're the one who started this unawesome conversation!" Antonio looked at me, waiting for an answer he'd never receive, while his friends poked him relentlessly.

"Alright!" He said finally, after his eye was nearly poked out by a certain Frenchman. "I'm thinking about joining the army for a year or so." It was suddenly quiet. _Antonio in the army?_ I silently laughed at the thought. _That would be the day!_

"Why?" Francis asked.

He smiled softly. "My father was killed in action when I was five, so I wasn't able to get to know him. I'm thinking that if I put myself in his shoes I might be able to... I don't know... Get closer to him or something. After that, I'll probably go into social services, I'd like to work with kids."

"Of course you would, pedo," I mumbled.

Gilbert laughed. "You just had to make it weird."

We had continued the normal routine of laughing, insulting, and making crude jokes until we had all forgotten about Antonio's crazy resolve. We had thought he had forgotten too, but apparently, we were wrong.

* * *

 **Introductions:**

 _Lovino:_ Romano

 _Feliciano:_ Italy

 _Antonio_ _:_ Spain

 _Ludwig:_ Germany

 _Gilbert:_ Prussia

 _Francis:_ France

 _Elizabeta:_ Hungary

 **Translations: (If they're wrong, blame Google Translate)**

 _Buenos tardes(Spanish)-_ Good afternoon

 _Ja(German)-_ Yes

 _Stupido bastardo pomodoro(Italian)-_ Stupid tomato bastard

 _Hola(Spanish)-_ Hello

 _Wurst(German)-_ Sausage

 _Mio fratello(Italian)-_ My brother

 _Mio Dio(Italian)-_ My God

 _Mein Bruder(German)-_ My brother

 _Mi tomate(Spanish)-_ My tomato

 _Mis amigos(Spanish)-_ My friends

 _Oui(French)-_ Yes

* * *

 ** _A/N: And so it begins! This is my first Hetalia fanfic, so I really hope you guys are enjoying it. This story is an idea my friend and I have been thinking of for a week or so, and I'm excited out of my mind to have the first chapter published! I'm also nervous too…. so nervous my heart is beating like crazy and my fingers are trembling while I'm typing this, making it hard to finish this note…. Anyway, if you did happen to like it, please leave a review! Favorites and follows are great as well!_**

 ** _You guys are awesome, by the way! *"BUT NOT AS AWESOME AS ME!" Gilbert shouts, slamming a door*_**

 ** _Sorry about that… I love you all!_**

 ** _altera vita mea_**


	2. Chapter 2

_Loving a Stranger_

 _Chapter two: A Farewell Party Means I'm Glad you're Leaving_

"You didn't."

Antonio was refusing to look at me, his fingers nervously fiddled with the steering wheel. "I'm leaving tomorrow morn- ow!" Before he could finish confirming, I clenched my fist and punched him in the arm- hard.

"Bastard!" I growled. "Why the hell did you keep this from me?!" My chest tightened painfully, restricting the amount of air that got into my lungs and causing my breaths to come out in ragged, angry huffs.

Antonio finally looked at me with wide green eyes. "But we talked about it..."

"Yeah, a year ago. Plans change, and so I assumed yours had too."

I blinked hard and gulped, fighting the lump in my throat. Why the hell did I even care if he left? I hated him and his stupid cheerfulness, I despised the attention he gave me, yet why did I feel like... Like crying over this? _Because I'll be alone again._ The realization hit me so hard I lost my composure for the briefest moment, enough time for a small tear to slip from its hiding place.

Antonio saw it before I could wipe it from existence. _Dammit._ "Lovi... I'm sorry..." He murmured, reaching over to brush it away.

I slapped his hand and did the job myself, reddening at how vulnerable he had caught me. "Get away from me!" I hissed. "I hate you. You've been acting like everything was fine for who knows how long now, you let everyone know you were leaving except me. Why? You know what, never mind. I don't want to know. Take me home, bastard. And I hope someone drops a bomb on you so I'll never have to see you again!"

He shut up immediately, and good thing too: I was already fed up with excuses that hadn't been spoken yet. The silence that followed was heavy, the atmosphere was tense. I heard Antonio sigh and turn on the radio, trying to fill that gap. Then he started driving again- but he wasn't going the right way.

"Where are we going, bastard?" I demanded icily.

Antonio's answer was just as cold, and it bothered me. "To the party."

Even though his tone bugged me, I didn't care enough to back down. "Hell no. You're taking me home."

"Can't. We're late enough already."

"I'll walk home then."

"Fine by me. Whatever makes you happy."

Alright. I'd had enough of this. "Would you cut it out already?!" I snapped.

Antonio dared to take his eyes off the road for a moment to look at me. "What?"

"Watch the road, dammit. And stop talking so...so I don't know! Just act normal!"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

I clenched my teeth. "Fine! I'll go to the party. Just stop!"

He suddenly smiled as brightly as he had before. "Aw! Thank you Lovi!"

"I still hate you," I muttered, successfully evading the arm that was attempting to wrap around me. But I felt slightly better when he was acting like the happy-go-lucky idiot that he is. I snuck a glance at him, observing the way he smiled, humming along to the weird Spanish song on the radio. His eyes crinkled at the corners and shone like bright emeralds, the sunlight lit up his dark hair and revealed normally hidden strands of caramel locks. Yeah, he was better when he was happy.

Antonio suddenly looked at me, his smile growing wider. I felt my face flush as I averted my eyes. I opened my mouth and let out a line of whispered curses that couldn't be heard over the music. He would catch me checking him- uh...looking at him in a way that wasn't murderous. That sounded better, and more accurate.

I was well into the fourth cuss when Antonio stopped the car. "We're here, Lovi."

"Don't call me that," I grumbled, opening the door of his car and stepping out. I almost regretted wearing a wrinkled shirt and the first pair of random jeans I had found in my room as I looked up at Francis' house. It was obvious that the Bonnefoy's were well off- and that was an understatement. Their house looked like something from a fancy rich person's magazine.

"HEYYYYYY! HE'S HERE GUYS! NOW THIS PARTY CAN REALLY START!" Some guy started yelling from the back yard, waving at us eagerly.

"Dammit Mathias!" That sounded like Gilbert. "I told you to signal us, not shout his name for the entire _ficken_ world to hear!"

The blonde guy- oh, I remember Mathias now- stopped waving and grinned behind him. "Whoops!" He laughed, not sounding the least bit remorseful.

Gilbert marched over to him and sighed, looking over at us. "You already knew about it, didn't you?"

Antonio smiled. "I did. You weren't very discrete about it."

Mathias looked triumphant. "See? I knew I wasn't the one who screwed up!" Another guy- if I remember correctly, his name was Lukas- grabbed the loud Dane by his tie. "Sorry about him," he said, either unaware or uncaring of the choking noises coming from the other.

Antonio approached them, exchanged a few words, and followed them to the party, gesturing for me to hurry up. I sighed and trudged on behind them, attempting to fight of a quickly approaching headache. The backyard was infested with people I either barely remembered, or wished I hadn't met: most of them were from high school. They cheered for Antonio as he came in, and then crowded around him in a mob so thick I could hardly see him. I don't know why, but my heart nearly sank. Antonio and I were in completely different leagues: why he chose to be around me was beyond my understanding. But I knew I didn't belong there.

I decided to sit far away from the others, knowing that they wouldn't come talk to me anyway. So I picked a spot in the grass a good distance away, wrapping my arms around my knees as I sat down.

"Attention!" Francis shouted, waving an arm to get everyone to notice him and quiet down.

"No one wants to pay attention to you, bloody frog," Arthur retorted even as people began to hush up.

The Frenchman was unfazed, and winked at the Brit. "Oh Arthur, it's adorable how you pretend to hate me! But anyway, Gilbert-"

"The Awesome Gilbert!"

"-the awesome Gilbert," Francis continued with a playful eye roll to his friend, "and I are going to say a few words for our beloved _ami,_ and then we'll start on the food and drinks."

"Ooh! Drinks!" Mathias cheered, having somehow escaped from Lukas.

Francis tried to get through with his speech, but he kept getting interrupted by some idiot every two seconds, so after a while I zoned out and switched to observing the others. Antonio was next to Francis with a smile on his face, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He occasionally scanned the crowd as if he was looking for someone. I noticed some girl near him- actually she was really close...so close their arms were touching. She was... Bella, was it? Oh right. She was that one chick who had been crushing on Antonio since the dawn of time, and since he is so damn nice she probably conceived the idea that she had a chance with him. Of course she didn't, for he had said that they were nothing more than close friends. Yeah, close is the right word, I thought, eyeing her uneasily. Bella seemed nice enough, but there was something that bothered me...

Gilbert was probably supposed to be paying attention to Francis, but he was one of the biggest distractions. When he wasn't interrupting he was flirting with Elizabeta while Roderich glared at the two from the edge of the crowd. From what I remember, Gilbert and Lizzy had practically grown up together, but since she was so tomboyish the two were competing about literally everything; from the number of push-ups they could do in one minute to who would get the better test score. Then in eighth grade, she had suddenly embraced her feminine side, resulting in Gilbert falling on his face for her. In fact, it had been one of the highlights of high school, watching egotistical Gilbert Beilschmidt pursue a girl so long, getting rejected and humiliated nearly every day. He had kept it up right until she started dating Roderich, this aristocratic pianist guy. Even though they were together most of our high school lives, Gilbert was still into her, even though he tried to act like he wasn't. And when they broke up right before graduation, he had been way too happy about it.

I wondered what was happening between those two: Lizzy wasn't rejecting him like usual, in fact, she had a hand in front of her mouth to muffle a laugh after he said something and hit his arm, but it was the playful kind that stood in stark contrast to the usual frying pan to his face. Gilbert's usual cocky smirk made him out to look as if nothing was out of the ordinary, but even from my distance I could see the excited gleam in his red eyes, the way he subtly edged closer to her, the victorious glances he shot Roderich.

Arthur was actually listening to the speech- which was actually really surprising, and so were Yao and Ivan. I thought I saw the Russian's scary little sister creeping on him in the crowd, but I wasn't sure. Alfred was as close to the food as possible, looking as if he were about to snatch up a plate when no one was looking, but his brother Matthew gave him a pleading look and he stopped with a loud sigh. In a manner similar to Alfred's, Mathias was gravitating towards the alcohol. Berwald shot him a look so intimidating the Dane took a few steps back with a nervous smile on his face, holding up his hands in surrender before thinking of a better idea. He grabbed Emil, Lukas' brother, by the shoulders and placed him in front. Emil slapped Mathias away and Lukas looked like he was reaching for the tie again, but Tino stepped in and somehow managed to keep the peace. Damn, those guys were weird.

I saw Kiku, a close friend of Feliciano and Ludwig, standing off to the side nearest the drive way like someone who was waiting for something. A car engine came up the road and turned off, car doors slammed, my brother ran to the small Japanese man and embraced him, probably apologizing for being late. Ludwig joined them at a calmer pace with a tray of food in his hands.

Gilbert had finally started his side of the speech when Feli caught sight of me and ran over. "Big brother, why are you all alone?" He asked me with a worried look in his eyes.

"So you knew about this too?" I muttered without answering him. "Care to explain why the hell you never told me anything?!"

He looked at his feet in guilt. "Ve~ I was at Ludwig's house when Francis called Gil to make plans. And you know Gilbert, he can't talk quiet. So we overheard him. He told us that it was supposed to be a surprise for Tonio, and also not to tell you because you would have refused to come if you had known it was a party. I'm sorry _fratello_!"

I sighed and shook my head. "Whatever idiota. Your excuse is lame, but I'm not angry with you." _I just hate that fucking bastard Antonio._

"Is _fratello_ sad that Tonio is leaving?"

"Hell no. I'm glad he's getting his big ass out of here." I thought I sounded pretty convincing, but Feli saw right through my facade. "You should talk to him, Lovino. He's been looking for you, ve~"

I raised an eyebrow. "What makes you say that?"

He pointed to where Antonio was standing, the Spaniard was in the process of scanning the crowd again. My brother waved and Antonio's green eyes rested on us. He smiled at Feli, then looked at me with relief. "Go talk to him, Lovino," Feliciano said, nudging me a little. "Who knows when you'll get your next chance." _Dio,_ Feli was actually right for once.

* * *

 **Introductions**

 _Mathias:_ Denmark

 _Lukas:_ Norway

 _Arthur:_ England

 _Bella:_ Belgium

 _Roderich:_ Austria

 _Yao:_ China

 _Ivan:_ Russia

 _Alfred:_ America

 _Matthew:_ Canada

 _Berwald:_ Sweden

 _Emil:_ Iceland

 _Tino:_ Finland

 _Kiku:_ Japan

 **Translations:**

 _Ficken(German)-_ Fucking

 _Ami(French)-_ Friend

 _Fratello(Italian)-_ Brother

 _Dio(Italian)-_ God

 ** _A/N: And the second chapter is completed! Oh my gosh, thank you so much for the reviews/favorites/follows! You guys have made me the happiest girl in the universe! Whenever I recieved an email alert, my heart started pounding really fast and I couldn't help but dance around my room like an imbecile. Thank you so much!_**

 ** _And I feel so tired right now! My class thought it would be a great idea to do some stupid bike-a-thon for a class fundraiser so I rode nearly 40 miles… I'm in so much pain._**

 ** _Oh well! Enough of my ramblings! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! I had a lot of fun on that last part with the entire gang! I hope you did too, because they'll be around for the next chapter too. Oh, the next chapter…. *chuckles evilly* Okay! Thanks once again to all you awesome people!_**

 ** _I love you all!_**

 ** _altera vita mea_**


	3. Chapter 3

_Loving a Stranger_

 _Chapter three: This is why Alfred Shouldn't be Allowed to pick Games_

Gilbert's speech was finished, and everyone was getting food; Alfred was the first in line, to the surprise of no one. The Beilschmidt brothers and a certain loud-mouthed Dane were inspecting the alcohol, Mathias chanting "Booze! Booze! Booze!"

"Don't you dare get drunk," Lukas warned. "I'm your ride home, and I don't want you doing something stupid with Emil in the car."

"Antonio's busy," I said lamely as I watched him get into the food line.

Feli smiled. "Ve~ if you won't go to him, I'll send him to you. Antonio! Come here _per favore!_ "

The Spaniard turned towards us at the sound of his name being called, a smile growing on his face as he ditched the line and approached us. "Feliciano! You came!" He said happily.

My brother nodded. " _Sì._ I'm sorry Ludwig and I were late. We started cooking our dish too late, and it wasn't ready on time!" "Is that why the house smelled like wurst and shit?" I asked.

Feli gave me a sideways glance. "Ve~ and I made pasta, as well as Paella- I found a good recipe for it. Anyway, I'm off! Luddy is calling me." I barely had time to notice that Ludwig was in conversation with Kiku and was not calling my brother before Feli vanished, leaving me alone with a bastard I didn't want to talk to.

Antonio sunk into the grass beside me. "So you were sitting here the entire time?" He asked me, making himself comfortable by sitting cross-legged. "I'm very relieved, Lovi. I thought you had taken off."

"That would have been idiotic of me, seeing I live on the other side of town," I pointed out stiffly. "And I don't like crowds; you know that."

"Ah, that's right..." I paused awkwardly.

"My brother told me to talk to you, bastard. But I don't want to."

He grinned. "Are you still mad at me? But that happened so long ago!"

" _Idiota!_ It happened twenty minutes ago, dammit!"

"I know..." He sighed. "Lovi, I'm sorry-"

"Antonio!" Gilbert shouted, taking a huge chug from his red cup- there was no doubt in my mind that it was filled to the brim with beer. "Get some food and join us! We're going to play truth or dare!"

Alfred looked at him like he was crazy. "No way dude! We should totally play spin the bottle dare or dare. It's like the way cooler, badass version of that middle school pussy game!"

"Spin the bottle dare or dare? Sounds like something you pulled out of your arse," Arthur criticized.

Alfred beamed and shoved some more food into his face. "Mhm! I did! Isn't it heroic of me?"

Antonio smiled. "Sounds like fun, I'm all for it. Come on Lovi! Let's play!"

"Don't call me that bastard. And I refuse to play any damn game Alfred came up with."

That Spanish Tomato Bastard wasn't listening to me and grabbed my hand, leading me to the forming group. I noticed I wasn't the only one being forced into playing. Alfred was demanding that Matthew joined since it was his brother's so-called amazing game, and Mathias was literally begging Lukas- like on his knees begging. The Norwegian looked completely disgusted. "I'll pass-"

"I'm not taking no for an answer!" Mathias announced passionately, jumping to his feet and grabbing his friend by the arm.

Lukas struggled in the other's grasp. "Alright. I'll play. Just stop acting so stupid. It's annoying." The Dane released him, smiling cheerily.

A circle was formed: Antonio and I, Bella, Alfred and Matthew, Gilbert and Elizabeta, Francis and Arthur, Feiciano and Ludwig, Mathias and Lukas, Feliks and Toris. The others were content to sit there and watch us suffer.

"I fixed you guys a plate while you were talking," Feli told me, handing me some food. "There's pasta for you, and some things for Tonio." " _Grazie,_ " I mumbled, while Antonio beamed. " _Muchas gracias_ , Feli!" He said, scooting closer to me so he could pick off our shared plate. I was conscious of the fact that his shoulder touched mine, I could feel the warmth radiating from him, and I shot my brother a suspicious look. He simply smiled in faux innocence, and I silently swore at the little bastard. He had done that on purpose, the asshole!

I don't know why, but having Antonio so close to me was a little unnerving. In fact, my fork trembled slightly in my hand as I tried to twirl my pasta around it. "Here," he offered after my food fell off my fork for the third time. He took my fork and twirled the pasta expertly before handing it back to me.

 _Damn, I'm an Italian and he did that better then me. And why the hell is my face hot?_ "I didn't need your help, _bastardo,_ " I sputtered.

He chuckled. "If you say so, _mi tomate._ "

"I've told you a million fu-"

"Alright everyone!" Alfred announced, sitting down with an empty bottle in hand(it was empty already? I could think of a few suspects responsible for that one). "Here's how the game works. I'll spin the bottle, and whoever it lands on is my victim! I get to dare them to do anything, and there is no turning back! This will be totally cool!" Those immature enthusiasts whose names will not be mentioned- because I'm sure everyone has figured out who those idiots are by now- started war whooping and cheering and acting so stupid I was ashamed of knowing them.

"Gil, can you please act your age for once?" Ludwig asked, raising an eyebrow at his brother.

Gilbert made a face. "No way! I'd hate to be as unawesome as you and act as if someone shoved a stick up my ass!"

The same idiots started laughing, and as Antonio joined in I felt a strange sensation travel from his shoulder to my body. I've heard people call this an "electric shock," but that's not how I would describe it. To me, it felt like I was a child on the top of a swing, falling backwards, my stomach curling as it rose into my throat. I didn't like it, yet at the same time it excited my interest and- _what the hell am I even thinking?_

"You alright?" Antonio whispered, poking my side softly. "You're spacing out."

I blinked. "I'm fine, you bastard." I hoped he knew that I was seriously considering throwing the plate in his face.

Alfred sat down and placed the bottle in the center of the circle. "Ok guys! We're gonna start this epic game right- now!" He spun the bottle with such a dramatic flair I thought it would go flying and hit someone in the head. Unfortunately, it merely spun around for a good minute, before finally slowing and stopping all together at Gilbert's feet.

"Even the bottle recognizes how awesome I am!" He announced.

Feliks sighed. "Can we like, start the actual game now?"

"O-kay!"Alfred relented. "Don't worry, I totally have the perfect thing! Gil, you seriously need to grab your least favorite food, drench it in alcohol, and eat it. Right here! Right now!"

" _Mein Gott_ ," Gilbert muttered with a smirk. "Lucky for me there aren't any hamburgers here, otherwise that would have been really unawe-"

"Did you say hamburger? Dude, I totally got you covered!" Alfred interrupted, opening the jacket he was wearing even though it was summer and pulling out a wrapped BigMac.

"You carry McDonald's products in your coat?" Francis sputtered. He looked completely disturbed, and one of his hands was over his heart as if he was fighting to keep himself from going into cardiac arrest.

"Well duh!" The American deadpanned, handing the sorry excuse for food over to the unfortunate victim. I smirked from behind my forkful of pasta, intent on enjoying every bit of Gilbert's suffering.

The elder Beilschmidt hesitated for a moment, long enough for Roderich to catch from the sidelines. "What's the matter?" He sneered. "Are you backing down, pussy?"

Gilbert shot him a look so murderous I was surprised the Austrian wasn't struck down on the spot. "Shut the hell up, _Klavier Ficker!_ " He growled, snatching the burger away from Alfred. "The awesome Gilbert doesn't back down!"

Roderich merely rolled his eyes and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Will you stop acting so egotistical? You and I both know you're really-"

"Roderich, leave him alone!" Elizabeta demanded before things could go down between the two. The boys shut up, both of them knowing she wouldn't hesitate to pull out a frying pan and hit them senseless. Gilbert shot the Austrian a triumphant look- obviously overjoyed that Roderich's ex had taken his side- before pulling the wrapping off the burger.

He grabbed his cup and poured a good portion of the contents on it, turning it into a nasty, soggy mess. Antonio and Francis had their cell phones out with 'blackmail time' written all over their faces. Gilbert raised an eyebrow at the disaster in his hands, closed his eyes, and took a bite. The reaction was immediate. His red eyes snapped open and his face paled as he started coughing and gagging, nearly throwing up. "There is no way in hell I'm eating this whole thing!" He shouted, jumping to his feet and running to the nearest trash can. When he came back, he chugged his entire cup of beer. " _Verdammt_ Alfred! I hate your unawesome ass!"

Alfred laughed like a maniac. "Dude, chill! You hardly ate any of it!"

Gilbert swore in German a couple more times before finally getting ahold of himself and spinning the bottle. This time, it landed on Matthew.

The blonde seemed to hide, shrinking into himself. "Please don't take your anger out on me, Gil," he nearly whispered. Poor kid. He looked so much like his obnoxious brother that it probably happened to him a lot.

Gilbert finally stopped cursing and smiled slightly. "Don't worry, Mattie. I'm too awesome for that. If you're anything like your brother, you have a bottle of maple syrup with you, _ja?_ "

Matthew's violet eyes widened as he nodded slowly, taking the bottle out of it's hiding place. "Good. Now I want you to drink the entire thing."

"That's it?" Bella questioned.

"Aw! I think Gil's a secret softie!" Elizabeta giggled, poking the self-proclaimed Prussian in the ribs, causing him to blush slightly. " _Nein._ I just... Matthew is that one person who doesn't deserve it..."

Matthew smiled. "Thank you Gilbert." With that, he opened the bottle expertly and brought it to his lips, downing it like it was nothing. "That was really fun!" He giggled afterwards as he spun the bottle, resulting in it ending up on Elizabeta.

"Here, finish the rest, bastard," I told Antonio, pushing the plate closer to him, for I was tired of him being so damn close to me.

He nodded and moved a tad bit- much to my relief- and bit into a suspicious-looking cake thing before anyone could warn him. He spat it into his napkin a second later. "Um... Arthur? Are these your scones?"

"That's right. I improved the recipe, since last time everyone was complaining about how bland it was. It's better this time, don't you think?" The Brit asked, pushing back messy golden hair as he puffed his chest out proudly.

Antonio blinked. "Yeah...sure..."

Matthew gasped, looking rather enlightened. "That's it! Antonio, could you give your scone to Lizzy please? She has to eat it."

Everyone gasped except for Arthur, who looked around in confusion. "Why do you act as those it's a bad thing?"

"Maybe because it is, Eyebrows," Francis suggested as the dreaded dessert was passed.

"Shut up you bloody frog! My food is wonderful, right Feliciano?"

"Don't get me into this, ve~"

"Whatever is that supposed to mean?"

"That your food sucks!" Alfred shouted.

"You wanker!"

Elizabeta finally had the "treat" in hand. "This really isn't anything to fight over," she said maturely. "No shut your faces or I will hit you with my frying pan, _megértett?_ " The guys gulped and nodded as they watched Lizzy lift the scone to her mouth and shove the entire thing inside in a rather undignified manner. I didn't really blame her. The best thing to do when eating Arthur's food is to get it over with. She somehow managed to get it down, coughing a bit. "Well... I've tasted better..." She muttered, making a weird face as she attempted to get the taste out of her mouth.

Gilbert left, returning with a red cup. " _köszönöm_ Gil," she smiled slightly as he handed it to her.

" _Ja,_ no problem. I just did what any awesome person would do."

I rolled my eyes at the flirtation, and I noticed Ludwig shaking his head at his older brother. Elizabeta seemed unaware of what literally everyone could see(even the oblivious Mathias was wagging his dark eyebrows suggestively) and spun the bottle. Arthur.

She smiled. "This is the perfect way to pay you back for making those disgusting scones!" She announced evilly, causing the Brit to squirm in his seat. "Uh... Lizzy, they couldn't possibly have been that bad, c-could they?"

"Oh, but they were. Arthur, you've studied Shakespeare right? And what about you Francis?"

Both boys nodded and looked at each other uneasily. "How well do you know Romeo and Juliet?"

By now, they both knew where this was going. "I...know it fairly well..." Arthur stuttered.

Francis shrugged. " _Je suis désolé mademoiselle_ , but I never was good with that particular play."

"But didn't your drama club perform that junior year?" Antonio spoke up. If looks could kill, that Spanish idiot would have fallen over right at that moment.

"Antonio!"

Elizabeta smirked. "Wonderful! Arthur, I want you to be Romeo, and Francis is Juliet. You two are going to reenact the famous balcony scene."

There was a lot of immature wolf-whistles and clapping, which Arthur responded to with a scowl while Francis seemed to accept his fate and stood up. "Let's go Romeo." Arthur sighed and stood up as well. "Don't call me that, Frog."

He cleared his throat and muttered, "'He jests at scars that never felt a wound.'" He paused, brought his eyes to Francis, and smiled like the love-struck bastard Romeo is. "'But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?

It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.'" There were snickers from the crowd, but they were ignored, as Arthur built up more courage and got more in character, staring at Francis in awe. "'Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,

Who is already sick and pale with grief,

That thou her maid art far more fair than she:

Be not her maid, since she is envious;

Her vestal livery is but sick and green

And none but fools do wear it; cast it off.

It is my lady, O, it is my love! O, that she knew she were!

She speaks yet she says nothing: what of that?

Her eye discourses; I will answer it.'" he took a step forward, then seemed to change his mind and stepped backwards, shaking his head. "'I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks:

Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,

Having some business, do entreat her eyes

To twinkle in their spheres till they return.

What if her eyes were there, they in her head?

The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars,

As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven

Would through the airy region stream so bright

That birds would sing and think it were not night.

See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand!

O, that I were a glove upon that hand,

That I might touch that cheek!'" Francis' cheek was resting on his hand as he played with a lock of golden hair and sighed dreamily. "'Ay me!'"

Arthur gasped softly. "'She speaks:

O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art

As glorious to this night, being o'er my head

As is a winged messenger of heaven

Unto the white-upturned wondering eyes

Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him

When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds

And sails upon the bosom of the air.'" Francis sighed again, looked off into the distance as he continued to twirl the strand of hair around his finger. "'O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?'" He murmured. "'Deny thy father and refuse thy name;

Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,

And I'll no longer be a Capulet.'"

Arthur acted as if he was surprised by this revelation, his green eyes grew wide as he nearly whispered to himself. "'Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?'"

"''Tis but thy name that is my enemy;

Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.'" Francis took his hand away from his face and paced a little. '"What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot,

Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part

Belonging to a man. O, be some other name!

What's in a name? that which we call a rose

By any other name would smell as sweet;

So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd,

Retain that dear perfection which he owes

Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name,

And for that name which is no part of thee

Take all myself.'"

Arthur finally emerged from the shadow. "'I take thee at thy word:

Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized;

Henceforth I never will be Romeo.'"

Francis gasped. "'What man art thou that thus bescreen'd in night

So stumblest on my counsel?'" He asked, as if Arthur hadn't said 'Romeo' two seconds previous.

The Brit was smiling softly. "'By a name

I know not how to tell thee who I am:

My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself,

Because it is an enemy to thee;

Had I it written, I would tear the word.'"

Francis smiled back at Arthur, and I noticed the Englishman's face grew slightly red. I thought I saw Lizzy with her cell phone out as the two stepped closer to each other, apparently forgetting that Juliet was supposed to be on a balcony.

"'My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words

Of that tongue's utterance, yet I know the sound:

Art thou not Romeo and a Montague?'"

Arthur shook his head. "'Neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike.'"

"'How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore?'" Francis questioned.

"'The orchard walls are high and hard to climb,

And the place death, considering who thou art,

If any of my kinsmen find thee here.'"

Arthur decided to improvise since they didn't have a balcony, or maybe it was the sappy romantic feel of the play taking over, because he took one of Francis' hands and held it in his own while certain people started cheering. "'With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls;

For stony limits cannot hold love out,

And what love can do that dares love attempt;

Therefore thy kinsmen are no let to me.'"

The attention must've gotten to him, for Arthur suddenly released Francis with a "Gah! I'm done!"

The Frenchman winked. "So do you really think my eyes are 'the fairest stars in all the heaven'?" He asked as they took their seats.

"You disgust me, you git! Those were the bloody lines and you know it!"

"But you said it with so much passion it had to be true."

"Shut up Frog!" Arthur demanded as he spun the bottle irritably. Strangely enough, it landed on Francis.

"What shall I do, Master?" The French asked with a suggestive look on his face. "I will do whatever you desire."

Arthur ignored the rather unhealthy implications and thought for a second. "Go wax off your stubble."

 _"_ Excusez-moi?"

"You heard me. And don't make some lame excuse about not having a wax kit. I know for a fact your mother has one."

Francis made a face and went inside the house, returning a few moments later with the wax in a bowl, the wax strips, and a popsicle stick. "I think I know how to do this..." He mumbled, dipping the stick in the wax and applying it to his chin before sticking the wax strip on.

Bella suddenly gasped. "Oh my God! Francis, you were supposed to wash your face first! It makes it less painful." She said as he rubbed the strip.

Francis paled slightly. "You tell me this now?"

"Sorry! I didn't even think about it before..."

"Allow me the pleasure of ripping off the strip!" Arthur said, scooting closer to the Frenchman. With little to no remorse he yanked off the strip, causing Francis to cry either from the pain or from being stripped of his 'manliness.' "That was so cruel, Arthur!" He sobbed dramatically, clutching his bare chin.

"Stop it, Frog. It'll grow back. And it's your turn."

Francis suddenly stopped crying. "That is true." A creepy look formed on his face, as if he planned on avenging his stubble by taking his wrath out on this unfortunate person. As he spun he eyed us all in a way that made me squirm and pray the bottle didn't land on me. I wasn't the only one who was nervous. Feliciano scooted closer to Ludwig as he watched the bottle and Toris was lifting his hand to bite at his fingernails when Feliks smacked it back down. The poor individual destined for this deserved pity.

That person was Lukas, who was resting his chin on his fist with his eyes closed. "Is he fucking sleeping?" I asked in shock. Everyone had been so damn loud it seemed impossible to me.

Mathias raised an eyebrow. "Norge?" He questioned, poking Lukas' cheek softly. The Norwegian's eyes snapped open and he grabbed the other's hand, causing Mathias to cry out in surprise as well as pain.

"Don't touch me, Dane," Lukas stated, his eyes narrowing.

"But Lu-kas! I thought you were sleeping, so I was gonna let you know that it was your turn!"

The lighter blonde turned and stared at the bottle of doom pointing at him in accusation and sighed softly. "Fine. What am I supposed to do?"

Francis grinned with the look of a tiger stalking its prey. "Oh hon hon hon! I have the perfect dare, _mon Norvégien!_ " He paused for affect, but Lukas only blinked his mysterious indigo eyes. Mathias seemed more interested and leaned forward. "You're not very animated," Francis pouted. "Oh well. What you're going to do is locate that person who annoys you the most-"

"I'm not doing anything too provocative," Lukas interrupted. "My little brother is here."

 _"Fyrir ást guðs,"_ Emil muttered from his place on the sidelines as his "friend and nothing else I swear" Leon snickered. "Lukas, I'm almost eighteen. I'm not a child!"

"And I think it would be super funny to see Luke doing some crazy erotic act!" Vlad laughed. Once again, if only looks could kill; the Romanian would have joined the already large group of dead bodies.

Francis grinned. "I agree, although it won't be too terrible, trust me. I simply want you to kiss that one annoying person for...a good two minutes. And I don't want it to be some stupid kiss that goes nowhere. Spice it up a little."

Lukas' slightly irritated but mostly blank expression didn't change, l but I noticed he grew so pale I wondered if he was about to pass out or something. "I'm fine," he insisted when Arthur offered some help.

Mathias was shaking his head. "Bro, that's such a cool dare!" He exclaimed with a huge smile on his face. "In all my years of knowing you I've never seen you with anyone. I mean, I've seen you with people, but not like with with people, you know? Like in a relationship. I wonder who you're gonna kiss." My eyes widened as Mathias' ever smiling face fell a little as he continued rambling. "I think I'll also be a little sad too... I really hope you don't fall for whoever you're gonna kiss..."

Lukas closed his eyes for a second and exhaled. "I hope I don't either..." With that, he grabbed the Dane by his tie- again- and pulled him closer. Mathias probably thought he was going to get choked out for the third time, because he gasped when Lukas connected their lips.

"HEEEEEY! LET'S GO MATHIAS!" Gilbert cheered in an immature manner. Elizabeta had her cell phone back out in a flash and started snapping pictures, and I heard Kiku swear softly behind us as he searched for his own. Mathias soon got over his shock and kissed back, causing Lukas to blush as their kiss deepened.

But Francis wasn't satisfied. "I thought I said spice it up," he grumbled, crawling over to the couple. With a forceful shove from the evil French bastard, Mathias was on his back with Lukas on top of him, practically straddling his waist.

"EHHHHHYYYYYY!" All the immature guys started cheering even louder, Lizzy's camera was probably running out of memory, Kiku was still searching for his phone...or a tissue. Lukas was so red he literally looked like a tomato- was that why Antonio called me that? Berwald had a hand over Emil's eyes, while the teen demanded that he wasn't a kid and struggled in the Swede's grasp.

"Time's up!" Francis said in a cheery tone. "But you two can continue elsewhere if you desire."

Lukas jumped away from Mathias as if he were on fire, hiding his scarlet face in his hands, and leaving the stunned Dane lying on his back in the grass. "Wow..." He murmured, a stupid grin on his face.

"Kesesese! I gotta admit, that was pretty hot!"

"I think I saw some tongue..."

"Way to go, Mathias!"

"I totally ship it!"

Mathias sat up slowly, drinking in everyone's comments with a grin nearly too wide for his face. "I can't believe it was actually me," he said happily. "Norgey, I'm so honored!"

Lukas didn't remove his hands from his face, but we could still see that his ears were bright red. "It wasn't a compliment, Dane!" He mumbled. "It meant you're a loud, obnoxious idiot!" He seemed to be trying to convince himself as well as the rest of us, for he took a deep breath and lifted his face as it grew back to its usual color.

Mathias nodded thoughtfully, not paying attention to the half-hearted insults. "But if that's what it takes to get you to kiss me, then I don't want to change a bit."

Lukas tried to glare at him, but his face flushed again. "I..." He stood up stiffly. "I have to go now. _Farvel_ and good luck Antonio."

"But you're my ride home!" Mathias protested.

The Norwegian shrugged carelessly as he gathered his things. "Tino and Berwald can take you home, right?"

Mathias looked to the others, who nodded. "Of course," Tino said quickly.

Lukas nodded. "There you go. Come on, Emil."

The younger Icelandic frowned as his brother passed. "You're being ridiculous, Luke. And I want to stay here a little longer. Can Tino bring me home too?"

"No," came the quick reply as the Norwegian shot Leon a death glare from over his shoulder. "I don't want you with some of these people any longer than you have to," With that, Lukas was gone.

"Sorry about him," Emil said quickly. "My big bro- uh, Lukas will kill me for saying this but nothing will happen if I stay quiet. He really does like you, Mathias. I have to go now."

"Aw! I knew it!" Tino gushed after Emil left. "Didn't I tell you Lukas was into him, Berwald?"

"Mhm. You did, Tino."

Mathias sighed. "I should be happy... But he'll probably avoid me like crazy now..."

Francis stared at him as if he were stupid. "Well then run after him! Duh!"

"Now?" The Dane asked, blinking his light blue eyes like some kicked puppy.

"Yes now! Go after him before he leaves!" Mathias nodded, standing up so quickly he almost tripped over himself as he ran after his friend...lover... I don't even know anymore.

Elizabeta giggled happily. "Well, now I've got some great new material!"

Arthur raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "I thought that yaoi fan club rubbish dissolved when we graduated!"

Lizzy blushed a little. "Oh... It did... Heh heh. Francis! Spin the bottle!"

Arthur's green eyes narrowed as he eyed her phone like it was venomous, while Francis nodded. _"Oui."_

"Make sure no one runs off this go, Frog," Arthur muttered, apparently in a sour mood.

Francis winked. " _Mon cher,_ Lukas and Mathias shall return, and they shall return as lovers."

"I'll believe that when I see it, Wanker."

The bottle was spun, but no one noticed who it landed on, for Emil was running towards us, the normally composed expression on his face had vanished as he grinned. "Guys, great news!" He said, a bit breathless.

"You're staying?" Leon asked with a smile.

The Icelandic nodded. "Yeah, but more than that! We were just leaving when Mathias showed up. He actually stood in front of our car and swore he wouldn't leave until Lukas talked to him. _Stóri bróðir_ \- no... Lukas told me to come back here so they could talk and-"

"Does Lukas know you almost called him Big Brother twice in the last five minutes?" Vlad asked.

Emil glared at him. "I did no such thing! Anyways, I hid behind the corner of the house and spied on them a bit. There's no doubt about it. They're together now."

The yard erupted with cheers, even though the two of them weren't even present. Elizabeta started to get up, but Arthur stopped her. "You have done enough!"

She sighed. "I guess you're right. Who's turn is it?"

Everyone looked to see the bottle pointing at Bella. And Francis was looking from her to Antonio in a way that made my stomach knot up.

* * *

 **Introductions**

 _Feliks:_ Poland

 _Toris:_ Lithuania

 _Leon:_ Hong Kong

 _Vlad: Romania_

 **Translations:**

 _Per favore(Italian)-_ Please

 _Sì(Spanish/Italian)-_ Yes

 _Idiota(Italian)-_ Idiot

 _Grazie(Italian)-_ Thank you

 _Muchas gracias(Spanish)-_ Thank you very much

 _Bastardo(Italian)-_ Bastard

 _Mi tomate(Spanish)-_ My tomato

 _Mein Gott(German)-_ My God

 _Klavier Ficker(German)-_ Piano fucker

 _Verdammt(German)-_ Dammit

 _Ja(German)-_ Yes

 _Nein(German)-_ No

 _Megértett?(Hungarian)-_ Do you understand?

 _Köszönöm(Hungarian)-_ Thanks

 _Je suis désolé mademoiselle(French)-_ I'm sorry miss

 _Excusez-moi?(French)-_ Excuse me?

 _Mon Norvégien(French)-_ My Norwegian

 _Fyrir ást guðs(Icelandic)-_ For the love of God

 _Farvel(Norwegian)-_ Farewell

 _Oui(French)-_ Yes

 _Mon cher(French)-_ My dear

 _Stóri bróðir(Icelandic)-_ Big brother

 ** _A/N: Cliffhanger! Duh duh duh! Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, as it was so fun to write. And Happy Thanksgiving to my fellow Americans- even though it is tomorrow!_**

 ** _I should probably let all of you know this now: the only languages I actually know are English and a tiny bit of Spanish- yet I have the overwhelming desire to have everyone say an occasional word or two in their actual languages. So I have to use Google Translate- obviously the most accurate thing around(laughs sarcastically). But if you speak any of the languages and notice I screwed up, let me know! I shall fix in it an instant!_**

 ** _Oh my gosh I'm so tired… and I really need to stop rambling…_**

 ** _Just REVIEW, and follow and favorite and did I say REVIEW? Oooops…_**

 ** _I love you all!_**

 ** _altera vita mea_**


	4. Chapter 4

_Loving a Stranger_

 _Chapter four: Don't Trust Bastards who come Knocking at Four a.m._

Bella had been sent into the house by Francis with a mission none of us knew and he refused to speak of. "You're gonna try some more matchmaking, aren't you?" Alfred asked. Francis shrugged, but there was a mischievous gleam in his blue eyes. "You never know."

While we were waiting, Mathias and Lukas finally returned, the Dane grinning wider than a little kid during Christmas while Lukas tried and failed to look composed. "Awwwww! You two are so adorable let me hug you!" Tino insisted, embracing his two friends.

"See?" Francis asked, poking at Arthur. "I told you my matchmaking techniques are perfect. And now you owe me..."

"Whatever you git."

"Francis?" Came a shy voice from behind us. "Are you sure this is what I'm supposed to be wearing? I feel so embarrassed." We all looked to see Bella in a sexy black and white French maid dress. It exposed most of her chest, all of her arms, and lay at the upper part of her thighs. She wore lacy stockings that when all the way up to her mid thigh, leaving a couple dangerous inches of creamy skin exposed. Her hair was done up with a maid's cap and she held a feather duster in hand, her face red. _Dear God, what the hell was Francis up to?_

Pretty much every single guy was drooling and making stupid catcalls while Francis nodded to her. _"Oui._ You know what to do now." Bella flushed more as she sashayed over to us and sat on Antonio's lap, kissing him on the cheek.

I felt as if someone had punched me in the gut.

I stood up, spun on my heel, and marched into the house. I don't even think anyone noticed I left, for they were far too busy observing the scene before them. So Francis the snail eating bastard was trying to pair up Bella and Antonio. Why was I surprised? And more importantly, why was I so fed up and disgusted? I somehow managed to locate the bathroom and locked the door behind me, sinking to the floor so I could bury my head in my hands. _Francis' Cupid magic works too, I just bore witness to that,_ I thought miserably. _I don't know why it bothers me, but it does. Hell, I should be rejoicing. When Antonio gets together with Bella, he'll finally stop annoying me and leave me in peace._ This was a good thing, right? Then why did I feel so alone? Losing Antonio to the army was bad enough, but losing him in this way as well?

"What the hell is wrong with me?" I muttered as my eyes watered against my will. "I don't have feelings for the bastard. The only thing I feel for him is hatred." Damn Antonio and his stupid perfect face, his cheerful personality, his dense, idiotic self.

"Lovino?" A voice called softly from the other side of the door.

I jumped and swore under my breath. "What the hell do you want, Tomato Bastard?" I muttered, struggling to keep my voice under control.

"Are you okay? I know you're not actually using the bathroom."

"Go fuck yourself. Or better yet, why don't you go with Bella, bastard?"

Antonio sighed. "Is that what this is about?" I sniffled slightly. "Can you open the door?"

"Hell no!" I shouted. "I don't want you in here."

There was a soft thud on the other side as he hit his head against the door. " "Lovi, I'm leaving tomorrow. Can we have just one normal conversation?" Well, this was probably the only time we'd be able to have one. Even when he came back he'd be too involved with Bella to spend any time with me.

I sighed and stood up, cracking the door open. He smiled at me. "I'm not into Bella if that's what you're upset about."

"I don't care if you are or not," I faked. "You don't have to lie to me, bastard."

Antonio pushed the door open a little as I vainly attempted to keep him out. "Lovi, I wouldn't lie to you," he said sincerely, staring at me with a confused look on his face. "But I think you do care. You're eyes are red, _mi tomate."_

I sniffed and rubbed at my eyes, trying to wipe away the evidence of my tears. "I think I have allergies or something," I said lamely. I blinked and lowered my eyes. "You don't like her?"

Antonio let out a small noise that sounded like a chuckle. "I thought you knew that, Lovi."

"Mm. That was before Francis tried to pair you two up. He somehow knew about Lukas and Mathias, so I assumed he read between the lines again," I muttered, wanting to get on his case for using those stupid nicknames, but finding it hard to utter the words.

He reached over and cupped my trembling chin in his warm hand, tilting my head up so I would look at him. "And that bothered you, _sì?"_ He whispered, leaning against the doorframe as he refused to take those bright green eyes off mine.

 _Yes...yes it did bother me, you idiot. Never allow that crap to happen again, got it?_ I silently pleaded, finding myself unable to tear my eyes away. But what I said aloud was completely different. "Of course it didn't, you bastard. I don't care about you."

Antonio sighed and removed his hand from my face, leaving it tingling. "That's what I thought..." He murmured sadly. I don't know why, but that made me want to start crying all over again.

* * *

"Remind me again why the hell I'm here," I grumbled in a grouchy manner. It was fucking four a.m. and I was stuck in the backseat of Gilbert's car next to Antonio, who was being so uncharacteristically quiet it was weirding me out. Maybe he just wasn't a morning person, or he was feeling anxious about his plane ride and what would come after that. Maybe he was asleep.

"Because you want to say goodbye to Toni, maybe?" Francis asked from the passenger seat.

"Or maybe because you bastards drove up to my house in the dead of night and forced me to get up?"

"Hm... I think the first one is more accurate," the Frenchman said. I harrumphed and slouched in my seat, too tired to continue arguing with him, but not trusting Gilbert's driving enough to fall asleep. So I merely listened to their dumbass conversation.

"So Arthur had to give me fifteen dollars yesterday," Francis was saying proudly. "You better get ready to hand over money as well."

"You got lucky with Lukas and Mathias," Gilbert insisted. "And they're awesome and all, but will they even last? Mathias is going back to school in a few weeks. Do you think they can handle a long-distance relationship?"

 _"Oui._ Love always finds a way, _mon ami._ Besides, our Danish friend will be home during holidays and such."

 _"Ja,_ but still. Emil is going to be a senior, right?"

"Yes. Lukas only needs to support his brother one more year and then Emil can go to college using the money their parents saved before they passed."

"Lukas has what, two full time jobs? That one coffee shop and Barnes and Noble. I'm pretty sure he hides out in behind the bookshelves and reads Norse mythology every day."

"I don't know. He is rather serious about getting Emil through high school. If he was to get fired it would be difficult for him to find another decent job with no college education."

"My point exactly! That guy is way too stressed out as it is for a long-distance relationship! So Arthur might get his money back. That means you are not the awesome matchmaker you claim to be, which also means I will not lose this bet."

What the hell were they even talking about? Oh right. They were probably discussing the possibility of Antonio and Bella hooking up. I fought the urge to growl and closed my eyes, no longer wanting to hear the stupid conversation. Besides, I was so tired, and the car's humming was really soothing...

I awoke several hours later to Gilbert shouting and swearing loudly in German, laying on the horn with no remorse. "GET THE HELL OUT OF MY LANE!" He shouted to some poor lady in her car. _"Scheiße!"_

I stirred, my neck slightly sore from leaning my head on Antonio's shoulder- wait. _What the hell?_ "What the fuck is wrong with you?" I yelled, jumping away from the slowly waking Spaniard.

Gilbert glared at me from the rearview mirror. "She was in the way of the awesome me!" He insisted.

"She was not," Francis grumbled. "You just realized you were losing the bet and decided to make a distraction. Which is cheating, by the way."

"I have no idea what you are talking about. The awesome Gilbert doesn't cheat."

"Why are you talking about yourself in third person, bastard?" I questioned.

Antonio rubbed his eyes and yawned. "What's going on?" He asked sleepily.

"I don't have a damn clue. These bastards are-"

"It's after six!" Gilbert shouted again. "The plane leaves at eight thirty! But all these unawesome people won't move their asses out of my way!"

We finally made it to the airport parking lot, where we ran into some more problems with road rage. "Move!" Gilbert yelled out the window. "How long does it fucking take to pull your shitty car out of the parking spot?!" The guy in the car flipped him off, which Gilbert retaliated by returning the favor with both hands while the rest of us sunk lower in our seats.

"That's it. I'm driving home, you idiotic albino bastard!" I grumbled as we grabbed Antonio's meager belongings and entered the crowed airport. After a few minutes and a talk with security, we realized we couldn't accompany him all the way to the gate. In fact, we really had to just leave him there.

"So no touching goodbyes then?" Gilbert asked, smirking at Francis.

The blonde smiled. _"Non._ We have our touching goodbyes right here."

"I don't know why," Antonio chuckled. "But you two are acting strange." Nevertheless he embraced his two best friends as they wished him the best of luck.

"And _adios_ to you as well, Lovi," he murmured, hugging me before I could stop him. "I'll miss you."

My eye twitched slightly. "Yeah yeah. Let go already, Tomato Bastard. _Ciao..."_ He smiled but released me, fingered my curl as I blushed, swore, and swatted at him, and picked up his bags.

 _"Auf Wiedersehen!"_ Gilbert said, elbowing Francis like he was saying 'I told you so.'

Before the Frenchman could dejectedly reach for his wallet, Antonio dropped his bags and ran back over to us. _Oh please tell me he was changing his-_

Before I could finish my thought, he was holding me again, his warm lips against mine. I wanted to smack him, to get out of his arms, but I found myself subconsciously leaning closer to him. _Damn him!_ Antonio broke away and brushed some hair out of my eyes. "I know you don't feel the same way, but I love you Lovi." He left for good that time.

I was unable to move, as if Antonio's actions and words froze me to the ground like they were some kind of evil spell. _He...loves me? Me? Pfft, yeah right. That doesn't happen. People don't love me; they love my brother, or anyone but me! I'm not a lovable person!_ Yet, my lips still tingled from his kiss and my ears still rung from his confession. _That stupid tomato freak, what the hell does he think he's doing, playing with my emotions like that?_

I somehow managed to get control over my body again and turned to the others, surprised to see Francis smirking at Gilbert with his palm open, while the self-proclaimed Prussian scowled and pulled out a twenty. _Wait a minute._

"IS THAT WHAT YOUR DAMN BET WAS ABOUT?" _Mio Dio,_ I hated those bastards. Good thing I'll get a break from all of them.

 **Translations:**

 _Oui(French)-_ Yes

 _Mi tomate(Spanish)-_ My tomato

 _Sí(Spanish/Italian)-_ Yes

 _Mon ami(French)-_ My friend

 _Ja(German)-_ Yes

 _Scheiße(German)-_ Shit

 _Non(French)-_ No

 _Adios(Spanish)-_ Goodbye

 _Ciao(Italian)-_ [in this context:] Bye

 _Auf Wiedersehen(German)-_ Goodbye

 _Mio Dio(Italian)- My God_

 ** _A/N: Oh my gosh guys! Thank you so much for all the love you've given me! You honestly have no idea how important you all are to me! I love you all so much!_**

 ** _altera vita mea_**


	5. Chapter 5

_Loving a Stranger_

 _Chapter five: And They say Blood is Thicker than Water_

The month was August, and I was driving Gilbert's car while those two bastards sat quietly in the backseat. I had sentenced both of them back there, and since Gilbert was still sulking about losing twenty bucks, they stayed silent- except for the occasional taunting remarks Francis made to his friend.

I was still confused about Antonio's confession, and I couldn't stop thinking about it even if I tried. _Damn it. It didn't make sense. Why would he say that? I hated him for his ridiculous impulses, yet at the same time I felt like I was on that swing again. No...he's sup_ _posed to be with Bella according to that snail bastard. How did he win that bet then?_

"I'm sure you are wondering about our deal, no?" Francis asked suddenly.

I glared at his smirking, stubble-less face from the rearview mirror. "I thought I told you I didn't want to hear you talking."

"You cannot boss me around; I am older than you. And you cannot leave me on the side of the road; this is not your car." I growled as his smirk grew. "Besides, I can tell you're curious."

"You're pretty damn annoying," I grumbled as I tried to focus on the road. The first portion of the return trip had been fine, but during the last half hour they decided to drag me through hell.

"I agree, Lovino!" Gilbert stated loudly, sitting up and nearly yelling in my ear. "That makes you awesome! We should just ignore Francy-pants and dump his unawesome _Arsch_ here. I'm sure he could just call up Eyebrows to save him anyway."

My fists tightened on the steering wheel. "You're just as bad, German bastard!"

"Actually, I prefer Prussian bastard. It is way more awesome, _ja?_ "

"Will you shut up?!" I shouted.

Francis chuckled. "Yes, shut up Gilbert," he agreed. "You're trying to change the subject. Anyway, you know how France is the country of love?"

"More like the country of lustful creepers," I muttered, turning on the radio to drown out those annoying voices. Damn, they were worse than Antonio…

"Ooh! I know this song!" Gilbert exclaimed as some song started playing. "Turn it up!"

"No."

He didn't listen to me and leaned over the center console to do it himself. "You can't tell me no! It's me car!" He screamed with the maturity of a toddler. "Nobody, nobody, nobody can drag me down! Nobody, nobod- HEY! What the hell are you doing to my music?!"

"I'd rather listen to Francis then to you singing to some middle school girl's favorite boy band," I harrumphed, hoping my ears hadn't bled. _"Dio,_ and you think you'll get anywhere in the music industry?"

Gilbert sniffled dramatically. "Don't trash One Direction," he pouted. "They're awesome."

"No one cares!" Francis said truthfully. "Now, as I was saying: France is the country of love, everybody knows that, but certain people like Arthur and Gilbert were doubting my powers! So I made bets with both of them; telling Arthur that I would get Lukas and Mathias together, and insisting to Gilbert that I could get Antonio to confess to you before he left."

My ears and face grew warm at the last part, but I remained silent, deciding that interrupting was just a bad idea. "So that game Alfred suggested was the perfect opportunity to put my plan into action! And when I got Lukas, I was rejoicing at my luck! Just like that, one bet was won. The other one was more difficult, believe it or not. I tried making you jealous- that was what happened with Bella- but you are so stubborn you pushed Tonio away. So I simply had to force you to come along with us and hope for the best! And it happened!"

I gritted my teeth. I couldn't wait for this trip to end.

* * *

By the time I got home from work a few days later, I was exhausted, greasy, and cranky- but that last one is normal.

"Lovino! There you are!" _Nonno,_ that is my grandfather, jumped out at me from the kitchen, causing me to squeak slightly. I swear, that old man was way to energetic for his age.

I pushed back my hair, not surprised when it stood up weirdly due to the heavy amount of grease it had been exposed to throughout the day. "Yeah yeah, I'm here. Did you need me?" I asked as I began to peel off my nasty apron.

 _Nonno_ nodded. "Yes! Hurry up and get dressed to play football!"

"Football? Now?" I asked irritably. "I just got home-"

"but it's family day! Your brother has been waiting for this for months, and we can't disappoint him, can we? He'd be crushed!" _Nonno_ interrupted me, obviously not caring that I felt like shit.

"Can't disappoint him? Why do you never say that when you change plans last minute on me?" I was quickly getting pissed off, especially since _Nonno_ was walking away from me to get the football- or soccer ball as the Americans called it. I followed him into the garage, set on making my point. "What about when I had that viola recital in fifth grade, and you didn't go because-"

"Lovino, please go shower," _Nonno_ interrupted again. "We're going to be with the Beilschmidts, so you cannot be filthy and covered in pizza grease." _Did he just say the Beilschmidts?_

"That makes everything fucking worse!" I exploded.

"Lovino Vargas!" _Nonno_ was glaring at me. "Language! Seriously, do you see your little brother walking around talking like that? Why can't you be more like him?"

"Why can't you get over the fact that I am not him and I never will be? Stop treating me like I'm a glitchy version of Feliciano!" I clenched my fists so tightly that my knuckles went white and I nearly drew blood from digging my fingernails into my flesh. He always did this to me! 'Why can you be adorable and lovable like Feli? Why are you so lazy, your brother isn't like that. I wish you could be talented like Feliciano.' To hell with those ridiculous comments! I was so tired of this!

 _"Nonno, Fratello,_ please stop arguing!" Feli opened the garage door, fingering his jersey nervously. He was pouting, his lower lip trembling slightly as tears pooled in his eyes.

 _Nonno_ forgot whatever lameass excuse he was going to say to me and dropped the football, going to Feliciano's side in an instant. "Don't worry, _caro,"_ he said softly, hugging my brother as the adorable bastard cried. "Everything will be alright. Your brother and I were just having a discussion, that's all."

"Ve~ but it was loud and scary, _Nonno!_ It sounded like _Mamma e Papà_ did when they used to fight!"

Damn it, now I felt bad. When Feli and I were younger- I was five while he was three- our parents went through a huge divorce. I didn't remember all the details and _Nonno_ refused to talk about it, but from what I could recall they yelled at each other constantly. I've been told that I'm like my _Mamma,_ who was terrible when it came to expressing romantic affection. She was so bad our _Papá_ thought she hated him, and to make himself feel better he sneaked around with other women. And when she found out, all hell broke lose and the two of them fought both verbally and physically nonstop before _Nonno_ came and took us out of there. Feli was still kind of traumatized and couldn't handle loud arguments, and I eventually came to the realization that like my mother, I was unlovable. And I had stopped caring. But that was before Antonio showed up and screwed everything up.

 _Nonno_ rubbed the back of my brother's head comfortingly, giving me a look that meant 'go do what I told you, and we'll continue this talk later.'

I somehow managed to keep from rolling my eyes and trudged into the bathroom. _Yeah, sure we'll talk later,_ I thought as I ran the shower and took my clothes off. _Because_ Nonno _definitely wants to get into a lengthy conversation about how much I look, talk, and act like the woman who brought about his son's demise._ The rest of the family acted like the entire thing was _Mamma's_ fault, like she was some horrible person who purposely tore down her entire household, yet I identified with her. I remember she used to sing Italian lullabies to me with her sweet voice, how she'd teach me the ways of cooking, and the way she would kiss the top of my head and comfort when I cried. We were both unloved, misunderstood, unwanted by the ones who should have wanted us the most…

"Stop this," I grumbled as I stepped into the shower. "I'm not going to think about this." I scrunched my eyes closed and focused on something- _anything_ \- that would brighten my mood, that would take my mind off subjects that made me want to dissolve into tears...

A pair of beautiful green eyes appeared in my mind. "Oh no!" I growled, opening my eyes. "Not him! Anything but him!" But Antonio was now in my mind: smiling at me, hugging me, kissing me and telling me he loved me just like he had done in that crowded airport...

That was the most stressful shower I had ever taken. It was so bad I was actually eager to go to the park and bring that German family to their knees. And luckily I didn't have long to wait.

Since we lived close to the park, we walked: _Nonno_ and Feli in the front while I lagged behind. _Of all the families to get close to, they just had to choose the Beilschmidts._ It was bad enough that Feli and Ludwig were hopelessly in love, but both of our grandfathers were childhood friends and fellow co workers. That meant I was stuck with that annoying Gilbert. I caught sight of the small family as we entered the park; Mr. Beilschmidt was looking over a book with Ludwig as the older-but-less-responsible brother chatted loudly on his cell phone, a fluffy yellow bird perched on top of his silvery white hair.

"Ve~! Hello Ludwig! How are you?" The potato hardly had any time to close his book, for Feliciano was hugging him tightly.

The German blushed at the display of affection as he replied. "I'm good. How are you?" That sent Feli into a lengthy description about the day's events.

Nonno quickly strode over to Mr. Beilschmidt and started chatting as well, so I was left to wait until Gilbert got off the phone so I could insult him. Ah, he must have been on the phone with Lizzy; I could tell because he was pacing a little and bit the inside of his cheek as he listened attentively and only interrupted once.

Suddenly, he stopped, his classic smirk forming on his face. "So you will go? Oh that's awesome! I'll get the concert tickets the second I have the chance! ... _Ja,_ you'll love it I promise! ... Kesesese! I can't wait! Awesome, well talk later okay? Bye!" He hung up the phone with a huge grin on his face. "Yes! She accepted!" He announced to the rest of his family, who gave him supportive nods of interest.

Feli gasped. "You have a date with Elizabeta?" He asked.

Gilbert smirked and nodded so violently his bird had to hop to his shoulder and chirped in displeasure. "Oops, sorry Gilbird," he murmured as he stroked the bird's head. "And yes, I do Feli, isn't it awesome? I'm getting us tickets for this concert-"

"If it's a One Direction concert, you've just signed a death wish," I muttered.

Gilbert rolled his eyes at me. "I don't even like them! I was just trying to distract Francis!"

"Sure you were."

 _Nonno_ then announced that we should start our game, so we all set down our unimportant belongings and jogged to the field. That was the stupidest football game I'd ever played: a grand total of six players on the field, two old men who thought they were still young but nearly broke their ankles on multiple occasions, Ludwig and Feli being too cautious around each other so the ball never got anywhere... At least I had an excuse to kick the brothers on their shins- and I took advantage of it too.

"Ow! I swear you're doing that on purpose!" Gilbert accused, jumping up and down on his good leg as I took of with the ball.

"You're not the only one who thinks that," Ludwig agreed as he tried to steal the ball from me. "That's playing dirty, Lovino."

After some fancy footwork and a not-so-innocent stomp on the potato's foot with my cleats, I was free and made a goal. _Ha, chew on that German bastards!_ "You are so cheating!" Gilbert shouted.

I smiled and blinked. "Me? Not at all! I'm so sorry for injuring you, but I am rather clumsy and it's not my fault if you're weak and frail!" I said with sarcastic sweetness.

"Maybe we should...take a break..." _Nonno_ panted. I bet he was regretting the sport: the perfect karma for forcing me to go.

Mr. Beilschmidt nodded slightly. "This reminds me of just how old we are."

 _"Sì,_ still young at heart, but I'm afraid my bones are having a hard time keeping up with me!"

"How about we go home?" I suggested.

Nonno shot me a warning look. "We haven't even gotten started, _mio nipote."_

* * *

 **Introductions**

 _Nonno:_ Ancient Rome

 _Mr. Beilschmidt: G_ ermania

 **Translations**

 _Arsch(German)-_ Ass

 _Ja(German)-_ Yes

 _Dio(Italian)-_ God

 _Nonno(Italian)-_ Grandpa

 _Fratello(Italian)-_ Brother

 _Caro(_ _Italian)-_ Dear

 _Mamma e Papà(Italian)-_ Mom and Dad

 _Sí(Italian)-_ Yes

 _Mio_ _nipote(Italian)-_ My grandson

* * *

 ** _A/N: Hey, what do you know? You didn't have to wait that long! I really hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, now that people are reviewing and everything I'm so scared I'll end up screwing this story up and disappointing you all…_**

 ** _But really, every time I get a review my heart feels so warm and fuzzy- cheesy I know, but that is seriously how I feel! It means so much to me!_**

 ** _You guys are still Prussia-awesome! I love you all!_**

 ** _altera vita mea_**


	6. Chapter 6

_Loving a Stranger_

 _Chapter six: When the Baby is the First to Fly_

"Ve~ Are you sure you don't need help with dinner, _fratello?"_ Feliciano asked, poking his head into the kitchen for the third time.

I looked up from the pot on the stove and shook a spoon at him. "Yes I'm sure! What kind of guest of honor makes his own food, huh?" I tried to sound firm, but the smile pulling on the corners of my mouth gave me away.

"But you shouldn't have to make everything yourself!" Feli protested, skipping into the kitchen as he rolled up his sleeves.

I turned back to the stove with a smirk. _"Fratello,_ if you do not leave I'm going to have to do something drastic. Now go entertain your guests."

I could hear him turn on the sink to wash his hands, laughing softly. "But _Nonno_ is entertaining them!"

I chuckled. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

With that, I dipped my spoon into the half-prepared pot of sauce and poured a small amount into my hand; it wasn't that hot. Then I slowly crept behind Feliciano and put my hand in his face, effectively smearing sauce all over him. "Ah! Lovino, stop it!" He shrieked as he laughed and struggled in my grasp. "Struggling will only make it worse!" I declared. "You don't want sauce in your hair and clothes, do you?" He stopped moving immediately, going limp. "Now you're going to go back to the living room like a good boy and-"

Feli suddenly cupped his hand under the still running water and flicked some at me, causing me to let him go and sputter as water got in my face.

He laughed triumphantly and washed his face, half-heartedly complaining about how I could have gotten tomato stains on his shirt.

I rolled my eyes and returned to the stove. "I warned you, didn't I?"

"Ve~ but I didn't think you would do something like that!"

"Never underestimate me, fratello. Now I suggest you go out to the living room before _Nonno_ tells your potato bastard about how you wet the bed right up until you were eleven or something equally embarrassing."

"I think that was you, Lovino."

"Really? Because I always told him it was your fault. You're the one who would always climb in my bed, after all."

Feli suddenly turned off the water. "Do you think he would do that?"

"Pffft. Of course he would."

And right on cue, _Nonno_ and Gilbert started howling in laughter, and Ludwig was saying, "that really happened?"

I turned to look at my brother, who's face was sheet white. "I have to go," he murmured, running into the living room. "Ah, ve! Luddy, what sort of funny made up story is _Nonno_ telling you? He likes making up weird tales, huh?"

"What are you talking about, Feli?" _Nonno_ asked. "This story is one hundred percent true!"

"NO IT'S NOT! WHATEVER HE TOLD YOU IS A LIE! I NEVER-"

"Calm down," Ludwig said as my brother's voice began shaking.

 _"Ja,_ he was just telling us about Lovi slipping off a rock and falling into the river," Gilbert added.

"H-he did? Oh! I remember that! It was so funny! And then he had to walk around the entire trip with those soggy clothes, and he fell right in front of a pretty girl he was trying to impress!"

I frowned. "HEY! THAT DID NOT HAPPEN!" I shouted, hearing the rest of them laugh loudly. "And shouldn't you be reminiscing about Feliciano? He's the one leaving after all." That was exactly why I wanted to stay in the kitchen, so I wouldn't have to deal with _Nonno's_ retarded stories or those stupid Germans. They were always hanging around, especially recently.

I sighed as I attended to the meal I was making- _spaghetti alla norma-_ which was one of Feli's favorites. It was strange, I had always thought I would be the first one out of the house, going to college with high ambitions. But another year had come and gone and it was my baby brother who was flying away while I stayed behind, my wings clipped and useless. Everyone was moving on with their lives, I noticed, and the only ones who were staying around were some of the most annoying: Gilbert and Ludwig preferred to go to the local college since they actually had a decent engineering program, Francis was taking one more year at this college before transferring to one in France, and Elizabeta(who I didn't mind as long as her camera was far away) was attending a college a few towns over, close enough to stay at home. Then there was Lukas, who was working his butt off to get Emil through his schooling, and then the useless piece of shit, also known as me.

"We're gonna have a blast!" Gilbert had said. "We'll show those losers that one doesn't need to attend some fancy college to have fun!" Personally, I'd rather burn in hell.

But Feli wasn't giving me the option. _"Fratello_ , promise me you'll have friends, and you won't be alone," he had said the night before. "I know it will be hard since I'm at school and Tonio is away, and I know you don't think you like most of the people staying. But don't be alone! Even you need company!"

I had scoffed and began to say no, but he started pouting and I had to give in. "Fine," I had sighed. "I fucking promise, you _idiota."_

"Ve! Pinky swear!"

"You're such a child..."

"Please?"

"Fine."

So thanks to my brother, I was going to have to hang out with people I hated- let's face it. Lukas was far too busy to socialize, not like he would if he could, and Gil was already making plans to have Lizzy around as much as possible, so my only other options were Antonio's friends or Ludwig, and the greatest instrument of torture couldn't make me willingly spend time with that potato.

I finally finished the food and brought it out to the dinning room. "Time to eat," I announced as I set the wonderful-smelling dish down in the center of the nicely decorated table.

"Thank you for cooking, Lovino!" Feli said as they gathered around and took their seats.

 _Nonno_ nodded. _"Sì._ It looks delicious!"

"Would have been better with wurst," Gilbert muttered.

I glared at him. "And ruin everything with that deathlike garbage? Hell no!" Mr. Beilschmidt elbowed his elder grandson and warned him about his manners, and we started eating.

"I can't believe I'm leaving the day after tomorrow," Feli sighed. "It's so scary, but I'm excited at the same time! Ve~ I'll miss you all so much though!"

Ludwig nodded and swallowed a bite of food. "But you can still call _und_ write."

"Ugh! Writing is so old! You're such a nerd!" Gilbert whined.

Ludwig shot him an irritated look. "I'd rather be a nerd then an idiot."

 _Nonno_ suddenly looked at me. "That reminds me! There's a letter for you on the coffee table! It's from a certain Antonio-"

"Tonio wrote?" Feli asked excitedly. "Oh that's _fantastico!_ Are you happy, Lovino?"

I shrugged as I studied my food, trying to hide my red face. The truth was, I didn't know how I felt.

* * *

After dinner, Feli and Ludwig insisted on cleaning up, and forced a complaining Gilbert to help them. "But cleaning is girl's work!" He insisted lazily.

"First of all," his brother started, "that statement is both sexist and untrue. Secondly, seeing that there aren't any women present anyway, it is also irrelevant."

"Go relax," Feliciano told me, pushing me out of the kitchen when I tried to clean. "Read your letter."

"Can I go too?" Gilbert asked.

Ludwig grabbed him as he tried to sneak out. _"Nein!_ Get drying the dishes!"

I thanked my lucky stars that I didn't have to stick around with those two any longer. "Alright, I'll go," I submitted. "But if you bastards break any of my mother's dishes I will not hesitate to slit your German throats, capeesh?" Ludwig nodded while Gilbert rolled his eyes at me, and I left the kitchen.

In the living room, _Nonno_ and Mr. Beilschmidt were talking, my grandfather waving his hands in animation while the other simply nodded. _Nonno_ glanced at me and pointed to the letter on the coffee table without a break in his story.

My stomach curled as I picked up the letter and reacquainted myself with Antonio's familiar handwriting as I retreated to my room. _Why do I feel so anxious to hear from him?_ I wondered as I closed my bedroom door behind me with a slightly shaky hand. _It's just the Tomato Bastard. Nothing interesting, right?_ Except for the fact that he had actually told me he was in love with me, nothing had changed between us. Oh for fuck's sake. Everything had changed. I plopped down on my bed and ripped open the envelope, removing the letter.

 _August 23_

 _Querido Lovi, mi pequeño tomate_

 _Well, that was the date when I started writing this letter, but I have such a limited time to actually write I know it will take a lot longer than one day! Besides, I still have to write my mother, Francis and Gilbert before I can send everything. How are things going back home? Everyone is getting ready to go back to school, right?_

 _Basic training is hard; they are very strict around here and they made me cut my hair- I didn't like that at all. I know it will grow back, but it still bothers me. But I already feel closer to my father. Isn't that strange? I was given wall locker as well as foot locker to put all my personal belongings- and no one else can go in them! It doesn't stop them from looking over my shoulder when I'm getting something. I'm allowed to have photos taped in my locker, so I asked my mom to send me my favorites; the one of all of us during our Senior trip, a snapshot of Francis, Gilbert, and I during one of our schemes, one of you laughing- I think you were making fun of me, but you look beautiful when you laugh so I don't mind._

 _I already miss you like crazy, Lovi! I wish I could see you get all red in the face at the nickname even though you'd also be shouting at me too. You can be pretty mean to me, mi amor, but I don't mind. There's a look in your lovely eyes that tells me up don't really mean everything you say. I know I'm being stupid, but I cannot help myself! I love you! I will try to get a letter out to you every week, alright? If you're not too angry with me, I'd love it if you wrote me back. I'd treasure it even if it was simply half a page of profanities, because they were written by you._

 _I miss you, mi corazòn._

 _Antonio Fernandez Carriedo_

I read and reread Antonio's first letter, my face flushed a bright red as my heart seemed to leap inside my chest. I could almost hear his lighthearted voice rambling all those words to me. Did he actually mean everything he had said?

I shook my head. "Stupid _idiota,"_ I muttered, shoving the letter into the top drawer of my desk. "When he gets that picture of me up, the others are going to assume we're dating or something and they'll torment him for it. At least there will be photos of his bastard friends as well."

A sudden crash from the kitchen interrupted my thoughts, followed by angry shouts in a mixture of German and English.

 _"Merda..."_ I grumbled, rushing out the door.

* * *

"I told you not to break anything, you fucking idiot!" I shouted, my fingers tightening on Gilbert's throat. Luckily for me our grandfathers had left to do God knew what, so there was no one to keep me from murdering the little piece of shit.

"Lovino! Stop!" Feliciano cried, tugging vainly at my hands. "Don't hurt him!"

"D-don't worry, Feli. He can't hurt the awesome me," Gilbert choked out, his normally pale face going blue from lack of oxygen.

That was when Ludwig intervened, pulling me away from his older brother. "Stop acting like children, both of you!" He shouted. "We cannot go killing each other like this over a stupid plate-"

"Stupid? That plate was my mother's, you idiotic potato bastard! How would you like to go to Italy to replace it, huh?" I growled, glaring daggers at him.

Ludwig sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Even so, it's about time you two act your age. Now we need to clean this up before someone steps on the glass and slices their foot open." I shot Gilbert a death glare and grabbed the broom from the pantry.

"Kesese," he laughed weakly, sitting down on a nearby stool. "I hope you don't act like this if someone breaks something tomorrow night."

I glanced away from the mess I was sweeping and stared at him. "What the hell does that mean?"

Gil's red eyes widened as he looked to Feli, who had resumed washing the dishes as Ludwig dried. "Didn't you tell him about the party, Feliciano?"

"Ve~ I'm pretty sure I did," my brother looked at me curiously. "You knew about the party tomorrow night, didn't you?"

I nodded as I continued sweeping. "Yeah, it's the stupid ball-sucking party to commemorate all your damn ambitions. No one said it was going to be here, though."

"Well it is," Gilbert stated. "So get your shit together. Your house is the only one big enough- besides Francis'- with a guardian who is kinda awesome and doesn't treat you like elementary students."

I finished sweeping up the glass and motioned for him to get off his ass and help me with the dustpan. "Well that's just great," I said sarcastically. "And I won't be able to stay in my room, for we all know what bedrooms are used for during parties. I swear, if my bed sheets get screwed up I'm gonna murder them! And not only that, but Elizabeta will be going around with her demonic camera invading personal space."

"Not if she's busy," Gilbert said with a suggestive smirk. I hit him on the shoulder hard enough to make him drop the dustpan, glass falling onto the floor again.

"Stop being disgusting," Ludwig grumbled as he put away a stack of plates.

His brother looked at him in surprise. "Oh, don't act so prudish!" He accused. "As if you and Feliciano haven't already fu-"

I punched the idiot before he could finish, noticing that my brother stiffened while Ludwig went white, then red. "I'd rather not discuss our little brothers' sex lives, thank you!" I shouted. "Besides, we all know you well enough to know that you're all bark and no bite, and that you get nervous out of your mind when you're around Lizzy." That shut him up, so I turned to the squirming potato in the corner.

"And you! I'm honestly not surprised, since you have been together for so damn long. If you value your pathetic life you will never, ever do anything to hurt my brother!"

Ludwig seemed to realize how serious I was about the whole thing, for he pushed his emotional awkwardness to the side and nodded. "I'd never dream of hurting Feliciano."

I huffed in response, and glanced at my blushing little brother. "Thanks for telling me, asshole."

He blushed harder and gave me a small smile. "Ve~ sorry _fratello!"_

"Mhm. Now let's finish cleaning before _Nonno_ gets home."

* * *

The party seriously sucked, although I was the only one who thought so. Francis insisted that it was because I missed Antonio, but that was stupid. I hated the party because I hated people, simple as that. I curled up on the edge of the couch, praying it would be over soon, that no one would drink too much and have to stay the night, that _Nonno_ would come home from his little trip with Mr. Beilschmidt and suddenly transform into an 'uncool parent' and kick everyone out. I was starting to lose my sanity.

What amazed me, however; was how close everyone was even after high school. Aside from me, a Swiss named Vash, and Bella's older brother who's name I can't remember, everyone had a group of friends to laugh with as they spent their last night home before they embarked on the perils of college life.

"Hey Lovino, mind if I sit here for a minute?" Bella asked me, smiling.

I narrowed my eyes, although she couldn't see me with the low lights in the room. I didn't care if that dare was Francis' fault, I still hadn't forgiven her for that. But I'm not rude- at least not to women, so I shook my head. "No, not at all. Make yourself at home."

She giggled and plopped beside me, brushing her hair out of her face. "So, how have you been? I haven't seen you since..."

 _Since you sat on Tonio's lap and kissed him?_ I thought spitefully. "Since Antonio's party," I finished.

"Yeah! It's been a couple weeks! So how are you?"

"Eh, whatever. My job is hell, home life sucks." _Now why the fuck are you really talking to me?_

"I feel you," she nodded. "And...about Antonio... Have you heard from him at all?"

I raised an eyebrow. _So that's what she wants to know._ I couldn't help but smirk slyly. "You mean he didn't write you?"

"No... I haven't gotten anything from him."

"Weird. Yeah, I got a letter from him the other day. He's doing fine- his biggest complaint is the fact that they forced him to cut his hair."

"That sounds like Toni," Bella said softly, her voice losing all its former mirth. "I wonder if he'll write me at all."

 _Don't count on it._ "I don't know. He's really busy, so he only has time to write to those closest to him, you know?"

She nodded and stood up, faking a smile. "Yeah, I get it. Thanks Lovino! See you around."

I smiled and returned the farewell, wondering why I had felt so intimidated by her during Antonio's party. There was obviously nothing going on between them.

* * *

 **Introductions**

 _Vash:_ Switzerland

 **Translations**

 _Fratello(Italian)-_ Brother

 _Nonno(Italian)-_ Grandpa

 _Ja(German)-_ Yes

 _Idiota(Italian)-_ Idiot

 _Sí(Italian)-_ Yes

 _Und(German)-_ And

 _Fantastico(Italian)-_ Fantastic

 _Nein(German)-_ No

 _Querido Lovi, mi pequeño tomate(Spanish)-_ Dear Lovi, my little tomato

 _Mi amor(Spanish)-_ My love

 _Mi corazòn(Spanish)-_ My heart

 _Merda(Italian)-_ Shit

 ** _A/N: There you have it! Another chapter finished! I hope you all enjoyed it! Antonio freaking cut his beautiful hair! I wanna cry!_**

 ** _Like always, you guys are awesome! I love you all!_**

 ** _altera vita mea_**


	7. Chapter 7

_Loving a Stranger_

 _Chapter seven: A Tomato, a Potato, and a French Fry_

The month was September, and I was completely fed up. But I couldn't lose my cool, even if I was drenched in tomato sauce, because that new worker Lili was staring at me with watering eyes. "I'm so sorry, Lovino!" She said again as she wiped my face with a towel.

I tried not to think about the fact that my shirt was ruined, because if I yelled at the poor girl her brother Vash would be at my door tonight. I sighed. "It's alright. It was just an accident."

"I know," she whimpered. "But I still feel awful."

Just then, our manager walked in, eyes wide as he observed the lovely tomato sauce look I was sporting, as well as the remains on the floor. "Lili, Lovino...what the hell happened?" Lili seriously looked like she was about to cry, so I clenched my fists and intervened.

"It was an accident, sir. She didn't know I was behind her, and turned around and crashed into me. It was my fault for not letting her know I was there."

Jensen nodded. "I see. Go in the back room, Lovino, and get yourself cleaned up. I think there is a spare shirt that would fit you. I'll show Lili where the mop is." I gave her a look to see if she was alright, watching how she blinked back her tears and nodded bravely before I made the trek to the back room.

"Note to self," I grumbled as I took off my now ruined shirt. "Never wear decent clothes to work." I poked around for the extra shirt Jensen mentioned, and finally found a crusty-looking extra large bearing the cheesy logo of 'Jensen's Pizzeria.' Creative, I know. "This is definitely my size," I grumbled sarcastically as I attempted to find my way into the shirt. When I finally got it on, it hung down to my mid thigh like some ugly oversized green dress.

I was trying to stuff most of the extra material into my pants when my cell started buzzing in my pocket. Weird, I never got calls during work. I fumbled to get my phone out and stared at the ID: _unknown caller._

 _Huh, maybe Feli's calling from his room,_ I thought as I answered it. "Hello?"

 _"Lovi!"_

I paled, immediately recognizing the voice. "A-Antonio?" I sputtered.

"Sí, mi amor. _I am so glad you answered, you have no idea."_ He did sound relieved, but why was he calling me?

"I'm at work, you bastard. And shouldn't you be doing training or something?"

"Lo siento _Lovi, but I won't take long I promise. And they're letting us call home for a few minutes."_

"Why didn't you call your mother?"

 _"Because I missed your voice,_ mi tomate."

My eyes flicked to the door nervously, hoping no one caught me hiding out on the phone. "You're an idiot," I muttered, trying to ignore the warmth I felt spreading across my face. "Shut the fuck up before someone hears you saying something retarded and gives you hell for it."

 _"I wouldn't care, as long as I got to talk with you. How are things? I bet it's super quiet back home, huh?"_

I nodded, although he couldn't see me. "Yeah. It was until you called."

He chuckled, then paused like he was listening to someone on the other line. _"I have to go now,"_ he murmured sadly.

"Already?" I asked without thinking.

 _"Unfortunately,_ mi tomate." I could hear the smile in his voice as he murmured, _"I love you."_

I held my breath for a second. "I know, bastard." Then all I heard was a dial tone.

I quickly shoved my phone back into my pocket and finished tucking in my shirt, washing my face of any stubborn tomato remains before I walked back to the kitchen. Lili smiled at me as she sprinkled cheese over the pizza she was making.

"I can't believe we've only been here for an hour," I grumbled.

She shook her head slowly. "It's kinda crazy, isn't it? Oh, and Lovino-"

"If you're going to apologize again, there is no need to do that," I interrupted.

"No- it's just...there are some people out in the dining area looking for you."

I raised an eyebrow, about to ask her who was asking for me of all people, when I heard loud laughter coming from the eating room. "Kesesese!" There was only one person in the entire fucking world who laughed like that. _"Mio Dio!"_ I exclaimed. "Not him!" To make matters worse, I could hear tidbits of a French accent as well.

"Hey Lovino?" Sam- the annoying bossy guy who I mentioned before- popped his head in. "Can you talk to these guys? They're really loud and they say they know you."

"Tell them to kiss my ass," I muttered lowly.

"But they're disturbing the peace."

I rolled my eyes. "Screw you." With that, I marched outside to face those idiots. "What the fuck are you doing here?" I hissed, crossing my arms and glaring at the two of them.

Gilbert grinned with an evil gleam in his red eyes while Francis waved to me. _"Bonjour_ Lovino! Fancy seeing you around here, oh honhonhon!"

"I work here, dumbass. Now tell me why you're here."

"We thought it'd be an awesome idea to eat extra greasy pizza for lunch," Gilbert exclaimed while the blonde beside him flinched.

"Actually, we came here to bother you. And nothing personal, but I'm not touching that pizza," he muttered as Sam brought them a large pepperoni. He sighed and glanced at me expectantly before walking away.

I fought the urge to flip the guy off and glanced around the near-empty dining room before leaning on the table. "I don't blame you," I said in a low voice. "The food here sucks balls. That _stronzo_ of a boss claims that since he has an Italian worker, his food is legit Italian food. That's the only reason why I haven't gotten fired."

Gilbert tried to laugh even though he had food in his mouth, resulting in him nearly choking. "It's not that bad," he said with obvious sarcasm.

"That's because you don't know what real food tastes like, bastard." I crossed my arms and glared at the duo. "Alright, you've bothered me and got your pizza. Now get the hell out of here. I was getting used to not having to look at your stupid faces."

Francis looked at me with a playful smirk on his face, that one that caused an eery feeling to creep down my spine.

"Why the fuck are you staring at me like that?"

He chuckled. "Just wanted to let you know that you haven't seen the last of us."

Gilbert nodded. _"Ja!_ Toni told us to look out for you, so that's exactly what we intend to do!"

"What?!" I sputtered. "That Tomato Bastard told you to look after me? What am I, a dog? Oh, I'm so giving him hell for this, idiotic _stronzo!_ He wants me to write him back, ha! He can keep dreaming then!"

Jensen suddenly decided to show up at the wrong moment, glaring at me as he interrupted my rant. "Lovino!" He hissed. "Stop shouting at customers and get into the kitchen!"

* * *

It is to be noted that every single person living in our town- and probably a few over as well- has heard about the Bad Touch Trio: the strange name of Antonio, Francis, and Gilbert's friendship. And it was true that a whopping 80% of the more innocent mayhem around was a direct result of their doing. Roderich Edelstein was ambushed by a gang of masked creeps throwing tomatoes? Gilbert had coincidentally gotten into an argument with him the day before. Sabotage? Arthur Kirkland's car getting mysteriously wrapped in plastic wrap overnight? Every girl in school as well as her mother getting their hearts yanked out of their chests? Yeah, they were the ones to blame.

I had heard the story of how the trio met- and I bet everyone involved with getting them together regretted everything, as it was highly likely that if they had met during high school they wouldn't even be friends. It had started the very first day of kindergarten, during recess. A chubby-cheeked boy with bright green eyes, who had only been in America for a week, had been attempting to make friends with a group of boys, when the loudmouthed self-proclaimed leader started harassing him for no apparent reason- some dumbass shit about his accent and broken English or something completely juvenile. Well duh he wasn't that great with the new language, and sure Spaniards to talk kinda funny, but that stupid Alfred hurt the kid's feelings and he actually started crying.

That was when Gilbert came on the scene, righteously angry(just an the excuse he uses for his red hot German temper) and punched Alfred right in the face. The American kid recovered because the punch of a five year old really doesn't hurt, and taunted Gilbert about his 'demonic red eyes,' until a flashy kid from France waltzed up and broke up the fight, declaring that all anyone needed was love as he began making a whole shitload of sexual comments and succeeding in ruining all of their virgin ears. Don't ask me how the hell a kindergardener knew that stuff to begin with, that was just how the story went. That was when it all started: with Gilbert the arrogant instigator, Francis the perverted fashionista, and Antonio the oblivious idiot who simply went along with whatever the others said.

This was the worst part: two out of three of them were now pounding at my front door.

And I was home alone, for _Nonno_ had left a note this morning saying he was going out of town for a few days, so there was absolutely no one to save me from the nightmare. I blame the Tomato Bastard for this! I was so going to kill him!

"Oh Lovino!" I heard Francis say in a singsong. "Open the door, darling. We know you're here!"

I was seriously considering running to the kitchen to grab a knife, but the door swung open, revealing the two evil bastards, a silver colored key glistening in the Frenchman's hand.

I didn't scream. Who the hell gave you that idea?

"Calm down," Francis ordered, slapping a hand over my mouth. "Do you want the entire neighborhood to think we're raping you or something?"

I wasn't convinced that they were not going to rape me.

I glared as Gilbert smirked, holding his cell phone to his ear. "Yyyup! We found it! Thank you so much Feli! Bye!"

 _So my brother told them where the extra key was? That little..._ "Surprised?" The silver headed one asked with a chuckle. "We told you, so have yet to see the last of us!"

I punched Francis in the gut, resulting in him yelping and jumping away from me. "Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. My. House."

* * *

 **Introductions**

 _Lili:_ Liechtenstein

 **Translations**

 _Sí, mi amor(Spanish)-_ Yes my love

 _Lo siento(Spanish)-_ I'm sorry

 _Mi tomate(Spanish)-_ My tomato

 _Mio Dio(Italian)-_ My God

 _Bonjour(French)-_ Hello

 _Stronzo(Italian)-_ Asshole

 _Ja(German)-_ Yes

* * *

 ** _A/N: Am I the only one who feels like this chapter was kinda short? If not, I am sorry, I've just been really stressed out lately- finals are next week guys! And also, I am a bit of a procrastinator(snickers at the understatement) so judgement day is at hand for me!_**

 ** _Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! I can't wait to reveal what great evil Franny and Gil have in store for Lovi! Mwahahaha!_**

 ** _Don't forget to REVIEW… I mean, what?_**

 ** _I love all of you so much!_**

 ** _altera vita mea_**


	8. Chapter 8

_Loving a Stranger_

 _Chapter eight: How to Bond with your Best Friend's Love Interest ~By: the Awesome Gilbert Beilschmidt_

 _(A/N: As the title suggests, this chapter is in Gilbert's POV)_

When Antonio had implored Francis and I to watch over Lovino, I had wanted to refuse. There was no way in hell we'd all survive God knew how long, not with that grumpy killjoy around. He was barely tolerable with Antonio there to receive all the hate! No, this would not be awesome at all. But before I could say no, our Spanish friend was invoking our pity; telling us things that Feliciano had revealed about their rough life in Italy, that Lovino was prone to falling back into depression. "What if something really bad happened to him while I was away?" He had said. "I wouldn't be able to live with myself."

Francis and I had glanced at each other with indecision: we knew that our friend was in love with that feisty Italian(though the reason why was beyond our comprehension), yet there was that overwhelming possibility that Lovino would...well I don't know... MURDER us or something.

Antonio had looked at us hopefully. _"Unidad..?"_ He'd murmured softly. I had had to smile at that. _"Loyalität,"_ I added firmly. Francis echoed without hesitation, _"Amour."_ Unity, loyalty, and love, the motto we had come up with back in kindergarten, our passion, our friendship. We were more than the average group of friends. We were supposed to be together through thick and thin, we were to have each each other's backs, to put their needs before our own, right? That belief had been the cheesy foundation of our friendship, and who could say no to it?

I had sighed. "Alright," I submitted. "We'll watch over him."

Antonio had brightened instantly. _"¿Qué?_ Are you serious?"

 _"Oui,_ what are _amis_ for?" Francis had questioned.

"Oh wow. You guys are the best!"

 _"Ja,_ I know we are awesome."

I knew I had agreed to it, but standing in the Vargas' living room with a fuming Italian standing in front of us, I couldn't help but wonder what the fuck had I been thinking. This was not going to work at all! I glanced at Francis, silently asking him what we should do.

He pressed his lips into a thin line and shook his blond head slightly. 'We can't leave,' he seemed to say. 'We made a promise.'

'But Toni asked us to do the impossible. Can't we just say, eh we tried, and go home?' My eyes did the talking for me- we were awesome like that.

The hard look those normally teasing blue eyes sent me told me how much he despised my idea. _'Non._ We're going to go through with this. There is no way I'm backing down.' I sighed slightly. 'Alright. I'm with you.'

"Hey _stronzi!"_ Shouted a very pissed Italian accent. "Stop staring at each other like creepy lovebirds and get the hell out of here, bastards!"

We turned and looked at Lovino, who was glaring daggers at us as he planted his hands on his hips, his dark eyebrows low and a scowl on his face. No, this wasn't going to be easy. A smirk slowly pulled the corner of my mouth. Since when did I do things the easy way?

"I'm sorry, _mon ami,"_ Francis told him. "But we aren't leaving."

Lovino's hazel...or amber...or whatever color eyes widened slightly. "And why the fuck not?" He asked, his anger nearly masking the small tremor in his voice. I caught it; however, and realized he was actually afraid of us. It was weird: we had known him for two years, and had hung out with him and Antonio often. Why was he so scared?

An awesome idea suddenly came to me, and I grinned. "I'll be right back!" I announced, racing out the door to my car. I had the trunk open in record time and pulled out two bags. "Lovino!" I shouted joyously as I kicked the door back open. "Do you wanna know what brings men together?"

The Italian shook his head no, but I decided to ignore that. Of course he wanted to know! "Beer!" I exclaimed so loudly he jumped a bit. "Beer is the awesome blood of friendship! There is nothing better than having a drink with the guys you're closest with!"

At this point, even Francis was staring at me oddly. "You had beer bottles in your car?" He questioned with the raise of a golden eyebrow.

I nodded as I set the bags down on the coffee table and pulled out a bottle, inspecting it expertly. _"Ja!_ I just got them and I was going to save them for later, but I can't think of a more awesome time to use these babies!"

There was a long, annoyed sigh from the corner, and I glanced up at Lovino, smirking a bit. "What's up with you? Everyone likes beer, _ja?_ "

The Italian huffed. "Never drank the stuff before, I like wine better," he grumbled indignantly. "Besides, if its anything you enjoy it probably tastes like shit."

I ignored the latter comment and gasped. "No way! Well, allow me the honor of introducing you! Beer is the most awesome thing you will ever drink!"

Francis left to grab some glasses from the kitchen while Lovino sat down on the couch, looking stiff and uncomfortable. "This is the only way to get you bastards out of my damn house, isn't it?" He muttered.

I flashed him a smirk as I opened the first bottle. "You bet!"

He ran a hand through his hair in a stressed manner. "Then I guess I don't have a fucking choice."

"Just to warn you," I said, changing the subject. "Beer is way more awesome and strong than your fruity wine, so it will be bitter tasting. And also, I'm going to guess you're a lightweight, so you'll feel the effects sooner than you'd expect. Don't worry, Francis used to be just like that, although his tolerance has grown over time."

Lovino merely glared. "Do you ever stop talking, bastard?" He questioned sourly.

"Never," Francis answered with a chuckle as he returned with three glasses. "You'll soon realize that."

"I'm planning on getting rid of you before I have to realize anything."

I rolled my eyes and poured the beautiful golden liquid into the glasses, purposely leaving one only half-full for the Italian. We did not need him vomiting all over the place like an unawesome-

"What the hell? I'm not a fucking child!" Said Italian huffed indignantly. "Fill up the damn glass!" That ignorant fool was going to regret when his stomach decided to revolt on him- but I'd leave that for him to deal with. I shrugged and filled that glass too.

We grabbed our drinks and took a nice long swig; I had grown used to the burning sensation traveling down my throat, but Francis still winced slightly, and Lovino almost spat his out. "Damn! This shit is nasty!" He exclaimed. "How the hell do you drink this?"

Francis gave him a sympathetic look, probably remembering when I had first introduced him to my favorite beverage. "Don't worry," he said as he placed a hand on Lovino's shoulder. "After a while, you won't even notice the taste."

That came rather quickly, for by the time he had finished his first glass, Lovino's slurred words had lost most of their venom, and his fiery eyes glazed, looking not unlike a tranquilized dog. I smirked as I continued to drink; my blood was practically made out of beer, and it would take a long time for me to actually get drunk. A couple more glasses were downed before Francis started giggling and hiccuping uncontrollably as he continuously tried to play with Lovino's curl, the Italian cursing at him softly and hitting him in the face with a pillow. I was starting to feel a little buzzed, but nothing serious yet.

"So Lovvvvvvvi," Francis purred, hugging the pillow to his chest. "You like Toni, right? You like his kisses don't you?"

Lovino tried and failed to glare, he was having a hard time focusing his gaze. "No," he said. "I don't like Tomato Bastard..."

I leaned closer as I gulped down some more beer. "Why the hell not?" I questioned. "What's wrong with him?"

"He's an idiot," came the slurred response as the Italian waved me away. "He's..."

That was when it happened. Lovino's eyes suddenly grew watery, and a single sob shook his body. Dammit, I should have figured he'd be a depressed drunk. Francis stared, looking incapable of doing anything, so I reached over and hugged the crying Italian, squeezing his shoulders. "Hey, you're awesome," I murmured. "You'll be fine."

"I just...he's lying!" Lovino blubbered, his tears wetting my shirt.

"Who..?" Francis questioned stupidly, rubbing random patterns into his back.

"T-Tonio!" Lovino pulled away and snatched up a pillow, sobbing into it as he shoulders shook. "He doesn't love me! He can't! No one loves me!"

Francis and I looked to each other, and I decided to stay quiet and let the drunk Italian speak his mind. Who knew what we would discover? I thanked my lucky stars that I was still fairly sober and able to process information as I listened to my best friend's love interest pour out his heart.

"Everyone tells me I'm like my mamma, and no one loved her either! My father cheated on her because she was unlovable! I had this girlfriend during freshman year, she said she loved me. Dammit, I believed her too! I fucking gave her everything- and just to find out that she had gone behind my back with some other bastard! Just like my parents. Antonio can't love me, he can't! I can't allow myself to think he loves me, because if I do, he'll end up forgetting me like everyone else!"

Damn, this was totally unawesome and depressing. Poor Lovino, it had to be rough. "There is one thing I know," Francis murmured as Lovino cried harder. "Toni is the right one for him. He'll treat Lovi better than anyone else could, and he'd never stop loving him despite all his quirks." My friend's words were still slurred, but there was a profound truth in what he said.

 _Don't worry Anton,_ I thought. _He'll come around. I'll see to that._

* * *

 _Damn the sun! Why was it so fucking bright?_ I screwed my eyes shut and tried to drown out the light, to retreat back to the comforting confines of sleep. But the pounding headache eliminated any chance of peace I wanted. I groaned and sat up, too quickly, sending my head into a world of pain.

I cursed and blinked, taking in the littered bottles of beer on a coffee table that didn't belong to me, the brown couch that wasn't black like my own, the Italian sound asleep on the other side of said couch, clutching a pillow for dear life and his foot nearly in my face, and Francis passed out on the head of the couch, his pants and shirt tossed carelessly onto the floor as he wore only a pair of red boxers. _What the hell had happened?_

I racked my brain for answers, but I was in so much pain I couldn't think until I took some medication. I heaved myself off the couch and trudged into the kitchen, whispered curses slipping out of my mouth as I did so. Where the hell did they keep the Ibuprofen? I dug around for a few agonizing moments before discovering a small bottle above the refrigerator. I popped a few in my mouth and twisted open the cap of a water bottle, nearly drowning myself in its contents.

That was when I remembered I was supposed to eat with the damn medicine. I groaned and opened the fridge just as I heard soft footsteps coming from the other room. "Fuck this shit. Fuck. Those. Damn. Bastards."

I massaged my aching temples and managed a small smirk. "Good morning, Lovino."

"Fuck you and your good morning, bastard!" The Italian snapped, his eyes flashing. He let out a pained moan and held his head in his hands.

"Need this?" I asked, handing him the Ibuprofen.

He snatched it out of my hand and opened the bottle, grumbling as he grabbed himself some water. "Forget everything I fucking told you last night," he growled.

 _Everything he had- oh! Right!_ Memories of the previous night suddenly flew back to my head, the drinking, the failed bonding attempt, the fact that all three of us had ended up choking on our tears as we embraced each other in our drunkenness. "But we're-"

"Don't even say we're friends, we sure as hell are not. As soon as Francis wakes up I want the two of you to get out of my house and put an end to this."

I smiled. _Sorry Lovino,_ I thought to myself. _This is only the beginning_.

* * *

 **Translations**

 _Unidad(Spanish)-_ Unity

 _Loyalität(German)-_ Loyalty

 _Amour(French)-_ Love

 _¿Qué?(Spanish)-_ What?

 _Oui(French)-_ Yes

 _Amis(French)-_ Friends

 _Ja(German)-_ Yes

 _Non(French)-_ No

 _Stronzi(Italian)-_ Assholes

 _Mon ami(French)-_ My friend

 ** _A/N: Anton is basically the German form of Anthony- which is the name Antonio is derived from in case anyone was wondering._**

 ** _Anywho! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! I wanted to do something a little different, so I thought: Hey! How about we switch things up a little? That actually proved to be easier said than done, as I actually struggled a bit with this chapter. I think I've kinda fallen in love with Romano's POV or something…_**

 ** _So, I again wanted to thank everyone from the bottom of my pretty nonexistent heart for all the support you've given me! I'm at...let's check… 22 reviews, 21 followers, 14 favorites, and…. I don't know how many views, fanfiction is glitching out on me for some reason…. But it's a lot though! And I seriously feel like I don't even deserve it! Thank you guys so very much!_**

 ** _I love you all!_**

 ** _altera vita mea_**


	9. Chapter 9

_Loving a Stranger_

 _Chapter nine: If You Don't Take a Risk, You will Never Love ~By: Francis Bonnefoy_

 _(A/N: As the title suggests, this chapter is in Francis' POV)_

"Lovino Vargas might think he has gotten rid of us, but what he doesn't know is that I still have a few tricks up my sleeve," I muttered, shoving the key into the lock, twisting it until I heard a distinct click. I smiled and pulled the key out and returned it to the safety of my pocket, turning the door knob and pushing the door open. I was alone this time around, for Gilbert had gone gallivanting off with Elizabeta for another date- those two were so adorable. Lovino would be at work until six, so I had an hour to get what I was looking for and slip away.

I entered the quiet house and crept towards Lovino's room with a wide grin on my face. He would most definitely kill me for breaking into his house, but it wasn't my fault he never took that extra key away from me! And I was doing him a favor!

I entered the elder Italian brother's room and looked around. _If I was Lovino, where would I keep my love letters?_

 _Somewhere hidden, somewhere normal people wouldn't go through._ I spotted the drawers of the cluttered desk and smirked.

I quickly opened the first drawer, which was filled with a neat stack of papers. "Ah-ha!" I murmured as I recognized my friend's handwriting all over those letters. _Well, Toni deserved credit for persistence,_ I noted as I scanned them. Not once did he forget to express his love, he never gave up on begging Lovino to write him back. It was clear to me that the Italian was giving him the cold shoulder, but he had kept all the letters, so he wasn't completely blowing him off. "That boy confuses me," I muttered with a shake of my head.

That was when I saw it, a folded paper at the bottom of Antonio's letters. Curious, I picked it up and examined it. _Hey! This is Lovino's handwriting! Alright, I am definitely reading this!_ I thought with a smile.

 _Oi, Tomato Bastard,_

 _You wanted me to write you back, but dammit I'm not going to send this to you! I'm only writing this to figure things out for myself, so if you end up reading this, you and your asshole friends have been getting into my things. I will find out too!_

 _I just...have some questions for you, bastard. I tried ignoring them, but they keep tugging at the corners of my mind, so I'm just going to write them down and hope for the fucking best. You claim to love me. My question is why? Why the hell do you love me out of all the people in the world to choose from? You could have anyone if your mind to it and flashed them your damn smile. Why me? I treat you like shit, you do realize that don't you? You know I'm far from cute, I'm not sweet, I'm not a nice, lovable person like my brother. There is nothing good about me! What the hell do you see in me?_

 _This isn't just a lie to get me to treat you better, is it? Because I swear, if it is I will kill you and stuff tomatoes up your ass. Because whatever you're up to, it will not work, got it?_

 _Lovino Vargas_

I couldn't help but smile as I read Lovino's letter, remembering our misadventure the night before. Deep down he wanted to trust Antonio, I knew he did, but the past was holding him back- he was scared. "This is something Antoine needs to read," I figured. "That way he can answer Lovino's questions and put an end to these ridiculous doubts." _Lovino will be beyond pissed, but when is he not? This is for the greater good._

With that, I shoved the letter in my pocket.

My phone starting ringing suddenly, causing me to jump slightly as I pulled it out. Why did people insist on calling when I was in the middle of- My eyebrows shot up at the recognition of the caller I.D. as I hurriedly answered the phone.

"Arthur!" I said as cheerfully as I could for trying to keep my voice hushed. "Whatever did I do to deserve a call from you, _mon cher?"_

I could practically hear him frown at me. _"Shut up, you bloody Frog,"_ he huffed. _"I would have called someone else if I could, trust me. Listen, I need you to do something for me-"_

"Oh honhonhon," I chuckled with a smirk. "There are many things I would do to you."

Arthur must have been in the middle of drinking something, for he suddenly choked and started coughing. _"I said for me, you idiot!"_

"I see no importance in that small detail," I whispered as I leaned back in my chair. "So what do you need? Me to drive all night to get to your school so I can-"

 _"Shut the hell up!"_ The Brit interrupted before I could get detailed. _"And actually I do need you to- say, why are you talking so quiet?"_

The smile on my face quickly vanished. "Oh. Well, I may or may not be sneaking into Lovino's house to look through Toni's letters..."

 _"You're doing what?! Francis, that's illegal!"_

"It's not like I'll get caught," I protested. "Would you care if my pretty face was behind bars?"

Arthur bit out an awkward laugh. _"Not in the slightest, you git. Now tell me why you're sneaking around again?"_

"For love!"

 _"That doesn't give you the right to snoop about."_

"But scientists always use 'for science' to gain access to everything!"

 _"That's because they're professionals,"_ Arthur scoffed.

I smirked. "I am a professional! Just you wait and see, Eyebrows: Antonio and Lovino will become the most adorable couple- second only to us of course," I added with a wink I knew he couldn't see.

 _"Gah! Wanker, I should honestly just hang up on you I swear!"_

"You're not denying anything!" I sang.

 _"I hate you so much. Now listen, you were actually right for once."_

 _"Excusez-moi?"_

 _"About the whole driving over here thing. I kind of need you for something..."_

I had never been more confused in my entire life. Arthur wanted me to go to his college, which was located a good seven hours away, and for what exactly?

 _"I'll explain later,"_ was all he said. _"You can bring Gil and whoever else. Just hurry...please."_

That was strange too; Arthur never, ever said the word please to me. Whatever this was about, it had intrigued me. "Alright," I submitted. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

After he hung up I quickly dialed Gilbert's number, hoping he would pick up. _"Francis, what the hell?"_ He hissed after the third ring. _"You know I'm out with Elizabeta, don't you?"_

I huffed dramatically. "I need you to pack some clothes for today and tomorrow. Arthur called."

Gilbert didn't seem to understand the urgency in my voice. _"So what? We don't have to go running every time he calls. What is this unawesome thing about anyway?"_

"I have no idea..." I said truthfully.

 _"Ha! That was a great joke, Francy-Pants, but I'm seriously busy right now!"_

"Gil!" I insisted. "Do one thing for me, alright? It was my idea that got you and Lizzy together in the first place! You at least owe me this! And you can take Elizabeta along with us!"

Gilbert paused and talked someone- my guess was Lizzy- for a moment. _"Fine,"_ he submitted. _"We'll go."_

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE?!"

 _"Merde..."_ I whispered.

 _"Wait. Was that Lovino in the background?"_ Gilbert questioned.

I glanced at the shocked and pissed of Italian standing at the door and waved to him. _"Oui._ I have to go. I'll pick you two up in half an hour."

I hung up and smiled. "Hello Lovino!" I said cheerfully.

His eye twitched slightly. "How the hell did you even get in here?"

"Um...the extra key?" I mumbled sheepishly.

"Now I know you are a fucking creeper," he accused, holding out his hand and forcing me to give up the key. "Tell me why you're here, bastard."

I had to think of something before he realized all of Antonio's letters were not in their drawer but on the desk in plain sight. "I came here to tell you to pack up! We're going on a little road trip!"

Lovino shook his head. "No way in hell. I will not get into the car with you and that other bastard for who knows how long." He grabbed my collar. "Now get out before I-"

But the more I thought about bringing Lovino along on our excursion, the more I liked it. What better way to bond than to be stuck in a tiny car for hours upon hours? I suddenly shot up so quickly Lovino lost his grip on my shirt and fell promptly on his ass. _"Non!"_ I exclaimed. "You must come with us! If you do not, then I would love to send this to someone!" I ripped the letter out of my pocket and watched as the Italian paled from his place on the floor.

"How the fuck did you get that?!"

I chuckled. "Relax _chéri._ It's not like this is a love letter, unless of course it is. Then you might be in some trouble."

Lovino pounced, but due to our height difference, I was able to hold him back. _"Ti odio,_ you fucking snail-slurping bastard!" He shouted. "Give it back right this instant!"

"Not until you pack up your bags and get into the car." Lovino stopped attacking me and huffed. "Where the hell are we going anyway?"

I smiled. He had said we, and that was a good thing. "To Yale University; we are going to pay our dear Arthur a visit."

"I have work tomorrow," he said lamely.

"You don't even work on Sunday," I pointed out.

He glared at me for a moment, then sighed tiredly. "Fine," he muttered. "I'll fucking go. But I'll tell you one thing: I'm going to make sure you regret everything."

* * *

"Why the hell are we going to listen to this entire thing again?" Lovino griped from the passenger seat, crossing his arms tighter as he slouched lower.

I shot him a sideways glance as I turned up the volume, smiling as the introduction to the musical _Les Misérables_ started to play for the second time. "Because it's-"

"Awesome!" Gilbert exclaimed from the back seat.

Lizzy rolled her eyes from her place next to her loud boyfriend. "I would have said something along the lines of glorious, or outstanding, but that works too."

"But we already listened to the hour-long soundtrack," Lovino complained, glaring at me. "I already had to endure you and Elizabeta belting out every single song while Gilbert did some lame ass background crap and acted like he was crying every two seconds. Can we listen to something else?"

I sighed in submission and turned off my music. "Fine. Put something on."

Lovino smirked in a malicious way as he plugged his phone into the audio and searched for a new selection.

We had already gotten one hour under our belt; it was nearing eight pm and the sun had set long ago. We had barely endured a fast food restaurant- well, Lovino and I hardly survived, but Gilbert and Elizabeta hadn't seemed to mind. We had listened to the entire deluxe version of the _Les Misérables_ soundtrack, the couple in the back had gotten into a rather heated debate concerning 'I Dreamed a Dream' and 'On My Own', and that brought us to the present.

Lovino's music wasn't bad, some obscure yet not untalented band that had Gilbert rocking an air guitar like it was his life's purpose, and I even caught the usually grumpy Italian singing softly. "You have a beautiful voice, you know," I noted. "Why do you hide it?"

Lovino blushed and jerked the plug out of his phone, putting an abrupt end to the music. "Shut up, bastard," he muttered, shielding his face with his sleeve. "My voice is far from beautiful."

Things settled down after that, and we listened to the lulling sounds of the car. After a while I heard soft snores coming from the back, and when I glanced in the rear-view mirror I saw Elizabeta curled up into Gilbert's chest, sleeping peacefully while her boyfriend laid sprawled across the seat, an arm draped over her shoulders, his mouth wide open and his lips twisted into a smile.

I brought my eyes back to the road for a moment, then sneaked a glance to my right. "You awake, Lovino?" I whispered, not wanting to wake up the sleeping couple behind us.

The Italian stirred and turned away from the black window, glaring at me. "I am now _bastardo."_

I chuckled softly, knowing he hadn't been sleeping to begin with. "He's not messing with you, you know," I said.

Confused eyes blinked up at me, tints of hazel were illuminated by the headlights of oncoming cars. "Huh?"

"Antonio," I said simply. "I read that letter, and I can assure you that I've never seen my _ami_ so in love in my entire life."

Lovino stared at his lap, probably blushing to the tips of his ears. "You shouldn't have gone through my things, you nosy bastard. And I'll have you know that I don't give a shit about that tomato."

Another lie, and this time I was going to address it. "If that was the case, why did you write that to begin with?" I challenged.

"I just...I wanted to...I just wanted to ask some questions, dammit! Is that illegal?" He snapped, jerking his head back up. "All my fucking life I've only heard people say that kind of crap to my brother. Feliciano is the cute one, the one everyone loves and adores, and I'm just a lazy, rude disappointment. So when Antonio suddenly says he loves me..." his voice nearly gave out for a second, but he quickly regained his composure. "...wouldn't you be suspicious too? If I don't care I won't get hurt. Simple as that."

I risked taking a hand off the steering wheel to rest it on Lovino's slightly trembling shoulder. "You can trust him," I said firmly. "He would never do anything to hurt you." He sniffed softly, but didn't respond.

"And also," I added as an afterthought. "If you never take a risk, you will never love. And that is a fate even worse than pain."

* * *

We woke up the next morning in our hotel room in New Haven Connecticut, only a few minutes from Arthur's school. I didn't know why, but I was nervous. As we made the short trip to the University, my heart pounded so hard I feared the others would hear it. But Lovino was preoccupied with his headphones, and Gilbert and Lizzy were lightly bantering, so I was safe with my thoughts.

 _Why does Arthur want me here?_ I wondered. _He isn't normally so vague._

I decided to get answers, so I called up the Brit. _"Hello?"_

My breath hitched subtly at the sound of his voice, but fortunately no one caught it. _"Bonjour,_ Arthur. We're in New Haven..."

 _"Oh, really? How close are you?"_

"A couple minutes, _mon cher._ Now listen, why exactly did you want me?"

The was a pause on the other end. _"I- uh...alright..."_ He stuttered. _"Some of the lads and I went out to get a drink and...well you know what happens when I get drunk, I always blurt out something stupid and it comes back to haunt me. So I said some things involving you and now I have to prove myself. Simple as that."_

My brows were furrowed. "That wasn't simple at all," I complained. "What did you tell them?"

 _"You'll find out soon enough. I'll be out front, alright?"_ Came the mysterious reply.

"Uh...sure..." Then the line went dead.

We soon arrived at Yale University, and found Arthur at the front like he had said, pacing a bit and chatting with a few guys who were with him. I set aside my worries and slid up to him, smoothly wrapping an arm around his waist. "You called me, so I flew to you," I said dramatically, in hopes of making him bristle and turn red like usual.

But this time he actually leaned into my touch and nodded to the strangers, who I noticed all bore different shades of red hair and matching green eyes- brothers most certainly. "Well chaps, this is my boyfriend Francis."

My jaw dropped and I heard Gilbert suddenly shut up behind me in a 'say what?' manner. I was going to ask the same thing, but Arthur looked at me with his emerald eyes silently conveying the message, 'just go with it.' A smile spread across my face. I was so taking advantage of whatever this was. I leaned over and brushed his cheek with my lips in a light kiss, feeling the skin grow warm at my touch.

Arthur squirmed and pushed me away. "Fro- er... Francis, not here!" He stammered, blushing.

I chuckled and winked. "Don't worry, _mon amour,_ I'll save it for later," I whispered before turning to the others.

"What he said is true, I am his boyfriend," I announced with a smile, managing to get an arm around Arthur once more. "Francis Bonnefoy, at your service." Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Gilbert with his jaw nearly on the ground, Elizabeta with her camera pointed right at us, and Lovino standing off to the side with a bemused look on his face.

One of Arthur's friends, the one with a more orangish tint to his hair, smiled and stuck out his hand. "Woah. When Artie told us he had a hot French boyfriend I thought it was the alcohol talking, but you're actually here!"

I felt the Briton tense and glanced over at him, noticing how he lowered his head in hope that his messy honey-colored locks would hide the dark red flush on his face. "S-shut up Conner," he huffed. "Of course it wasn't the alcohol talking!"

I raised an eyebrow at him, a playful grin on my lips. "So you brag about me, _mon cher?"_

"He sure does!" This time it was the guy with lighter, reddish-blonde hair. "He kept going on and on about how wonderful you are, how great your cooking is, how affectionate you are-"

Arthur suddenly jerked his head up, glaring. "Alright, I wasn't that sappy, Dylan!"

The guy who had been dubbed with the name 'Dylan' laughed along with the guy named Conner, while the third guy- the one with hair so bright I wondered if it was even natural- looked at us curiously. "How do we know you guys are actually together?" He questioned skeptically, raising a fiery red eyebrow at us.

Conner stopped laughing and looked at us suspiciously. "That's a good point, Allistor. They could be making this whole thing up."

"How do we know you guys are really dating?" Dylan wondered, the thought rolling from brother to brother. "Arthur is a sneaky one."

The Brit glanced up at me, practically begging me to help him out; lucky for him I had a plan. Without hesitation, I leaned forward and connected our lips, kissing him for everyone to see. I felt him tense up for a brief moment, then seemed to realize that acting so stiff would only lead to more questions and quickly loosened up. Like I said before, I was using this to my advantage. I hope he'll enjoy trying to live this one down!

* * *

 **Introductions:**

 _Conner:_ N. Ireland(I've heard something about Southern Ireland being a girl..?)

 _Dylan:_ Wales

 _Allistor: Scotland_

 **Translations**

 _Mon cher(French)-_ My dear

 _Excusez-moi?(French)-_ Excuse me?

 _Merde(French)-_ Shit

 _Oui(French)-_ Yes

 _Non(French)-_ No

 _Chéri(French)-_ Darling

 _Ti odio(Italian)-_ I hate you

 _Bastardo(Italian)-_ Bastard

 _Ami(French)-_ Friend

 _Bonjour(French)-_ Hello

 _Mon amour(French)-_ My love

* * *

 ** _A/N: A little bit of a side plot sneaking in here. Ah, those two are so adorable! Don't fret, Lovi's POV will be back next chapter, I promise. I miss it a lot actually…_**

 ** _If you liked the chapter, don't hesitate to let me know! Reviews are welcome!_**

 ** _I love you all!_**

 ** _altera vita mea_**


	10. Chapter 10

_Loving a Stranger_

 _Chapter ten: Mixed Emotions_

The month was October, and I was purposely lagging behind the others. I was not looking foreword to this.

"Lovino dear, hurry!" Antonio's mother urged, taking a brief second to fix her hat over her soft brown curls.

 _"Ja,_ hurry up, dearest Lovino!" Gilbert scoffed playfully, earning a sharp elbow to his gut from Francis. "Don't tease him, Gil," he chided. "He's just nervous because he hasn't seen Antonio in nearly ten weeks."

Dammit, my face was betraying me again! "Shut up!" I shouted, glancing nervously at Ms. Carriedo, hoping she wasn't believing any of the lies those two were telling. But then again, her son probably already told her everything. Great. Talk about fucking embarrassing- it was a wonder she didn't hate me. But she had been the one who invited me to join the rest of them for her son's graduation, and she had been nothing but sweet and caring to me. It reminded me of Antonio.

Actually, the more time I spent with her, the more similarities I made between Josefa Flores Carriedo and her son. They both had thick brown curls- although the elder's was colored a shade paler as it threatened to go gray, they shared the same bright, expressive green eyes, either of their laughs sounded so melodic and carefree, they were both so cheerful...And I digress...

The four of us made the trek through the crowds of Fort Jackson, following the flow of excited mothers, proud fathers, ecstatic spouses, crazed girlfriends, and rowdy friends to the bleachers. We somehow managed to find seats not too far in the back, and Antonio's mom ducked in quickly next to some lonely guy sitting by himself, gesturing for me to sit next to her. After me went Francis, and last and definitely least, Gilbert squeezed in on the end.

"Isn't this exciting?!" Ms. Carriedo nearly squealed. _"Mi bebé pequeño,_ all grown up!"

 _"Mutter_ Josefa, the graduation won't be until tomorrow," Gilbert protested, smirking at the woman's enthusiasm.

She laughed, causing the guy next to her to glance her way- not in annoyance, but rather in interest. "I know, _hijo._ I can't help myself though! I haven't seen my boy in ten long weeks. I don't know what I would have done all alone if you and Francis hasn't come to see your second mother every so often."

The Frenchman beside me nodded with a smile. _"Oui, Maman_ _Josefa._ We tried to get Lovino to come too, but he said he was busy."

I sent him a warning look. "I didn't want to impose," I grumbled. The other two were obviously closer to her than I was, always calling her mother and whatnot, and if I was thrown in it would just be awkward- kind of like it was now.

But I was the only one who thought that apparently. "Oh nonsense!" Ms. Carriedo exclaimed. "I love company, and you're such a dear Lovino, when you want to be. With my husband dead and Antonio out of the house it's been so quiet..."

I noticed that creep was staring again, but when I looked at him he turned around abruptly. Francis seemed to have caught it too, for he leaned closer to me and whispered, _"Maman,_ I think that man wants to speak with you."

"Yeah," I added. "He keeps looking at you."

"WHAT GUY?" Gilbert hissed, not wanting to be out of the loop.

Ms. Carriedo's lips pursed for a second, and she turned toward the man, who was pretending to be preoccupied with his phone, and stuck out her hand. _"Hola!_ " She said brightly, smiling at him. "My name is Josefa Fernandez Carriedo!"

The man jumped at her friendliness, turning back to her with a red face, glancing at the three of us like we would attack him if he made the wrong move. It was a valid conclusion actually. "I- nice to meet you," he stuttered, shaking her hand with an embarrassed air. "I'm Francisco Alberto Lisboa."

"What is up with all their super long names?" Gilbert questioned quietly as we eyed the two conversing adults.

"I recognize that accent!" Ms. Carriedo announced. "Portugal, right?"

"That is correct, Madame, and I would be a fool if I didn't know that you are from Spain." The man- I had already forgotten his name- seemed to be opening up.

"That's right!"

"Forgive me for asking," the man said shyly, "are you here for your spouse?"

Ms. Carriedo shook her head with a short laugh. "No, my husband died years ago. My son Antonio is graduating."

"I'm sorry," the man...he had the same name as some American city, right? Angeles? Diego? Oh, Francisco! Francisco said he was sorry as if he wasn't really that sorry and explained that his wife had passed giving broth to their youngest son, then suddenly jerked up. "Wait a minute. Did you say your son's name is Antonio?" At the nod, he continued excitedly. "No way! My son- João- he was combat buddies with him!"

"João? Oh, I think Antonio told me about him!"

"I think someone has a crush on _Maman_ Josefa," Francis whispered.

I whipped around to stare at him. "You think so?" I questioned.

He nodded firmly. _"Oui._ This guy might end up being your father in-"

I elbowed him in the gut, causing those terrible words to die on his tongue. "Shut the fu-" I cringed, knowing Antonio's mom was right behind me. "Shut up."

Gilbert stared at me in wonder, quirking a single eyebrow as amusement danced in his eyes. "I think we should keep _Mutter_ Josefa around. I've never seen Lovino watch that careless mouth of his. This is really awesome, kesesese!"

I glared at him, silently comforting myself by planning to kill the bastard when I got the chance.

Francis placed a hand on my shoulder- a stupid habit he has picked up over the past couple months. "He just doesn't want to make a bad impression," he explained. "He wants his future mother-in law to like him after all."

 _If only looks could kill..._ "You don't even know what you're talking about," I huffed, crossing my arms. It was ridiculous! I wasn't trying to impress anyone! I just didn't want Antonio's mother to hate me, for some odd reason. Because sometimes the most cheerful people could morph into demons toward the people they dislike- or some weird shit like that.

My attention was drawn to the front, as a sector of soon-to-be graduates marched up. "They're starting!" Ms. Carriedo exclaimed, the two adults swiveling in their seats to face the front. My heart pounded as I scanned the rows of identical crisp uniforms, shaved heads, standing at attention and silent as stone statues. Ms. Carriedo leaned forward in interest as some officer started talking, and Francisco glanced at her with a small smile before turning.

"They all look the same," Gilbert murmured, staring with his mouth slightly open. "How unawesome."

I shot him an irritated look. "Way to state the obvious, _idiota."_

"This is why I'll never go into the military. I wouldn't be able to handle looking as boring and bland as the rest of them!" Francis declared with a toss of his blond curls.

"Shhh!" Ms. Carriedo exclaimed, not taking her eyes off the...was it the drill Sergeant?

Francis quickly apologized and we returned our attention back to the front, just as the drill Sergeant or whoever it was said something along the lines of, "we are proud to say we have transformed your citizens into soldiers."

There was a murmur of approval that rippled through the audience, and I felt my blood chill. The way he had said it made it sound like this boot camp had succeeded in doing exactly what Francis had said- making them dull and boring. Like they had stripped each and every one of them of their individuality, and they were all as stoic as Berwald and as serious as Vash. Just thinking of Antonio without his stupid happy-go-lucky, oblivious personality caused an eery feeling to creep down my spine.

I found myself leaning forward, inching towards the edge of my seat, tuning out of the speech as I carefully looked through the rows again, trying to find that idiotic Spaniard. Do you have any fucking idea how hard that was? There was no damn difference in their clothes, their stance, their haircut, and those really detailed individual characteristics were too small to note from my seat. My gaze finally rested on a tall tanned guy and my breath caught in my throat. Could this be him? Unfortunately, I had no way to determine if it was or not, not from my distance, not with him staring straight ahead with absolutely no emotion.

Then, as if he could feel my stare, the guy actually made eye contact with me- wasn't there some rule against it? I swear my heart stopped for a second. He somehow picked me out from the crowd just like I had picked him out, and his eye brows shot up as his lips twisted into a subtle smile, just enough to break his stone-like facade. Only Antonio would be stupid enough to break ranks like that.

I wanted to glare at him for his rebelliousness, but a smile flitted onto my face as I waved slightly. His smile grew until I could nearly see those familiar dimples even from my seat, he nodded his head, then returned to his normal position before anyone else could catch him.

 _"Idiota..._ " I whispered.

Francis glanced at me curiously. "Hm?"

I tore my eyes away for a moment and blinked. "I found Antonio."

"Where?!" Ms. Carriedo hissed, touching my elbow.

I pointed, and the rest of them leaned forward, following my finger's direction, before they gasped and murmured in the affirmative.

"So that's why your face was getting all red!" Gilbert chuckled, attempting to be quiet. "I thought you were getting sick for a second."

I placed a hand on my feverish cheek, wishing the ground would just swallow me. "I hate you so much," I grunted. I could feel Ms. Carriedo's eyes on me in interest, and I squirmed from the attention.

"The eyes of lovers are like the eyes of the eagle," Francis was saying metaphorically.

Oh, it would have been so easy to reach over and wrap my fingers around his gullet, to squeeze it until that stupid grin vanished and was replaced by a look of horror as he turned blue. But that would be saved for a later time, when mother and son were reunited and too busy to notice anything else. For now, I had to take a different approach.

"That explains why you're always hawking on Arthur," I noted with a sly smirk on my lips.

Francis would normally laugh this sort of thing off without an effort, but today I could have sworn he blushed ever so slightly as he glanced to his lap. "I do that out of obligation," he murmured.

"Yeah, sure. Pretending to be his boyfriend is definitely an obligation."

"You really should just ask him out for real," Gilbert advised. "Look at the awesome me; I asked Lizzy out, and she's never been happier!"

Francis rolled his blue eyes and motioned for us to pay attention to the too long briefing.

I begrudgingly brought my eyes back to the front- only to make eye contact with a certain _soldato idiota,_ who was once again staring at me. This time, I managed to frown at him and jerked my head towards the drill Sergeant in a silent order to do what he was supposed to do, to which he eventually complied.

I really couldn't tell you what the hell the briefing had actually been about, for the next thing I knew the soon-to-be graduates were dismissed and were weaving their way through the audience to their loved ones. "Where's Antonio?" Ms. Carriedo questioned, rising from her seat eagerly.

I had lost sight of him in the shifting crowd, but I thought I heard a loud, Portuguese accent coming towards us, saying something along the lines of, "I can't wait to meet your boyfriend!"

"I already told you we aren't dating..." a familiar Spanish accent responded.

The other laughed. "Bull! And I'm the President of Portugal! Toni, you've been talking about this guy nonstop since day one, almost obsessive-like, sort of like a high school girl talking about her crush."

By now, their voices were getting louder, and my face grew warm as I recognized the subject of their conversation. "I'm not that bad, and at least he came- unlike someone's love interest," Antonio sounded a bit indignant as the two made it through the crowd and walked toward us.

"Is it just me," Gilbert murmured. "Or am I seeing double..?"

It was true, Antonio's friend looked almost exactly like him, the only differences being the slight diversity in their skin tones, the Portuguese guy being nearly a head shorter than the Spaniard, as well as his eyes being more of a lighter green. The shorter decided to fire one last shot. "At least I wasn't the one getting into trouble during training because I was daydreaming."

"Okay, that happened only once-"

"ANTONIO!" Ms. Carriedo literally shrieked and almost trampled the rest of us as she stampeded through our row and engulfed her only child in a tight embrace, cooing over him in rapid Spanish that even I couldn't fully understand- and I was fluent in the language!

That Tomato Bastard hugged her back, allowing his easygoing smile to slip onto his face as he responded in Spanish that was only slightly slower paced. My heart pounded in my chest at the sight of him, my skin seemed to crawl with a strange warm sensation. _What the hell is wrong with me? Maybe I actually am getting sick?_

Francisco quietly slipped past us and wrapped an arm over his son's shoulder as the two conversed in their language.

The moment Antonio was out of his mother's hold, Francis and Gilbert were upon him, tackling him to the ground. "Kesesese! You're nearly as buff as I am! We had to use all our body weight to get you down!" Gilbert laughed as the two evil bastards stood up, the blonde one holding out a hand to assist their friend. "Long time no see, _mon ami."_

"Tell me about it," Antonio chuckled. "How are you guys? Things are getting interesting between you and Arthur, huh? And I heard you scored with Lizzy, Gilbert? That's-"

"Awesome, just like me, I know!"

João and Antonio took a brief intermission to introduce each other to their family, and I was simply standing there awkwardly, wondering if everyone had just forgotten about me(not that I gave a damn), when the tomato-obsessed idiot looked directly at me and sent me a smile that I'm sorry to say made my knees a bit weak.

"And there's my little Lovi!" He exclaimed as he practically lunged at me like a creepy predator, capturing me in his strong yet loving embrace before I could run. _Dammit_.

"Don't call me that, bastard!" I demanded, struggling in his grasp. "And let me go!"

He chose to ignore my protests as he nuzzled into my hair in an embarrassing manner. "But I missed you so much," he whined quietly. "And you're so cute!"

I didn't need a mirror to tell me how red I was. "No I'm not, you idiot! Stop being so weird, everyone's looking at us."

He slightly loosened his grip, but not enough to allow me to escape, and slipped a warm hand under my chin, tilting it up so that I was forced to look into his eyes, reacquainting myself with their beauty. If I could paint like my brother, those bright, rich green eyes would be the first thing I- _wait a fucking minute. What the hell is going on in my brain?_

"Are you ashamed of me?" Antonio was asking, pulling me away from my weird thoughts, a look of hurt flashing across his face. _Oh shit, what have I done?_

I panicked, not wanting to see him upset for some reason, and placed my hands on his chest to keep him from pulling away- but I thought I had wanted him to leave? "No," I said quickly, lowering my voice so that I wouldn't be overheard. I hate it when people eavesdrop. "I'm just ashamed of myself." Damn, he had no idea how true that statement was. I was beyond disappointed in myself for standing there with a face red enough to rival a tomato, for falling for something as stupid as a magnificent pair of eyes, for noticing the firm muscles from under his uniform(Gilbert had been right about him getting buff), for being torn between my emotions and my rational thoughts, and for acting no less than a hormonal high school girl.

Antonio smiled a little and seemed ready to say something, but we were interrupted by a certain short Portuguese guy, who practically shoved his hand in my face and forced Antonio and I to separate- to that I was grateful.

 _"Olá!_ You must be Lovino," he grinned. "I've heard a lot about you, believe me. I swear you are Antonio's favorite subject."

"I don't doubt that, certain idiots have a tendency to talk too much about nothing," I grumbled, sending said idiot an irritated look.

Antonio shook his head and made some lame ass excuse for being such an obsessive creep, while João continued to introduce himself, and I quickly learned that the latter was nearly as loud as Gilbert- but not as annoying, and although he love to poke jabs at the Spaniard, he still seemed like he would take a bullet for him if necessary. In all, I don't think I disliked him.

"Trust me," he was laughing after I made a comment about how Antonio simply took every insult his combat buddy threw at him. "I have enough blackmail on Toni to make him my personal slave for five years!"

Gilbert smirked in interest. "That's so awesome; you guys are practically brothers!"

That led to Antonio coughing out an "Eww," while João's eyes widened. "Those are dangerous words, _meu amigo."_

"But it just might become a reality," Francis commented, gesturing behind us to where the two adults had slipped back into easy conversation with each other, soaking in each other's presence like plants soak in energy from the sun.

Antonio couldn't help but smile. "They are kind of adorable."

His fellow soldier glared at him and waved a hand in his face. "What are you, retarded? We can't have our parents hooking up! Do you have any idea how sucky that would be?"

He planted his hands on his hips and turned to his father. "Hey _Pai!_ Come on, I'll show you around, okay?"

Francisco nodded with a smile, then turned to Ms. Carriedo. "Would you and your family care to join us? It would be more fun with all of us together." Before either of their offspring could protest, Antonio's mother agreed with a such a sweet smile her son and his comrade instantly gave up on trying to break it up.

João decided that he was going to serve as the tour guide and led our company around the fort, explaining everything and revealing stories- mostly about Antonio- that had to do with nearly every area. Francis and Gilbert thought the stories were absolutely hilarious and stuck close to the other in order to catch every detail. The parents were next, chatting amongst themselves when nothing interesting was going on, yet hanging on to every word that had to do with their children's adventures and trials.

"You're just like your father," Ms. Carriedo murmured in wonder, slipping an arm around her son after a particularly detailed story of how Antonio had totally zoned out in the middle of training('probably thinking about Italians' was the suggestive words the storyteller used) and got in huge trouble with the drill Sergeant.

Then there was me, the antisocial deadweight, who trudged along in the back- wanting to be alone- but a stupid Tomato Bastard kept hanging around. I continuously glowered at him even though he didn't seem to notice it, and tried to get him to bother someone else in vain. He just wouldn't stop being stupid.

"Hey!" I hissed in a deathly whisper as he attempted to hold my hand. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

Antonio started whining- again- and his eyes grew so wide and puppy like, forcing me to look away before I gave in. "Please Lovi?" He pleaded quietly, stealthily slipping an arm around my waist as I turned red for the fiftieth time that day. "I haven't seen you in so long!"

I glanced over to the others nervously. _"Idiota._ There are other people here."

"They're not looking," he pointed out. He was right, for we were in an area practically uninhibited, and everyone else was listening to a particularly long story João was telling.

I found myself leaning into Antonio's touch, much to my disgust. It wasn't like I actually enjoyed his affections, but this was the only time we'd be able to spend together until God knew when. I sighed slightly. "Fine. I'll amuse you, bastard. But just this on-"

Before I could even finish my sentence, he pulled me to his chest, tangled a hand in my hair, and interrupted me with a kiss. _What the fuck?!_ I screamed internally. _I never agreed to that, you sneaky bastard!_ Yet, my eyes eased closed as I leaned into him subtly, secretly enjoying the softness of his lips and those electric sensations they caused. The kiss didn't last much longer than the one at the airport had, but it seemed like an eternity to me.

"Bastard," I whispered softly as he pulled away with a dopey smile on his face. Antonio's eyes sparkled and he trailed his lips across my forehead gently. "I love you, _mi tomate,"_ he returned quietly, taking my hand again. I let him this time- I had suddenly grown tired of fighting him.

 _What the hell is wrong with me?_ I wondered again. I would have thought that ten weeks away from him would've helped me sort out my emotions, but I've never been more confused in my life.

* * *

 **Introductions:**

 _João-_ Portugal

 **Tranlations**

 _Ja(German)-_ Yes

 _Mi bebé pequeño(Spanish)-_ My little baby

 _Mutter(German)-_ Mother

 _Hijo(Spanish)-_ Son

 _Oui, Maman_ _Josefa(French)-_ Yes, Mama Josefa

 _Hola(Spanish)-_ Hello

 _Idiota(Italian)-_ Idiot

 _Soldato idiota(Italian)-_ Idiot soldier

 _Mon ami(French)-_ My friend

 _Olá(Portuguese)-_ Hello

 _Meu amigo(Portuguese)-_ My friend

 _Pai(Portuguese)-_ Dad

 _Mi tomate(Spanish)-_ My tomato

* * *

 _A/N: I am so sorry! This chapter almost didn't make it up on time! But Toni is back for now, so you guys can forgive me, right?_

 _And just so you all know, I've never actually been to a basic training graduation ceremony- but I did read up on it a ton! This chapter took place the day before the ceremony- a day known as Family Day, where the family gets to basically see what their loved ones went through throughout the last 10 weeks._

 _Anywho! Hope you all have a great Christmas! I gave you all a chapter, and all I ask for is something called a review. Pretty fair deal, right?_

 _I love you all!_

 _altera vita mea_


	11. Chapter 11

_Loving a Stranger_

 _Chapter eleven: I Swear, I'm Only Tolerating You_

We ate dinner at the Fort, and I honestly can't tell you what we ate because Antonio insisted on continuously holding my hand or touching my knee or keeping some stupid physical contact between the two of us and it made my stomach knot up so bad I couldn't eat. That Tomato Bastard is so lucky I didn't hurl all over him in front of his army friends- although it would have served him right.

Antonio joyously informed us that he had gotten permission to stay the night with us at our hotel- something about his mother being present- so after the others ate we bid farewell to the two Portuguese men while a certain friendly Spanish woman promised to meet up at the graduation ceremony the next day, then we piled into the rental car.

"I have an idea!" Ms. Carriedo announced as she started the car. "Who votes for some homemade churros?"

"Ooh! I do!" Francis shouted without thinking- and without contemplating the fact that he had just eaten. Gilbert was chanting, "Churros! Churros!" And even Antonio was bouncing in his seat like a child. _"¡Sí por favor!_ It's been so long since I've had your _sabrosos_ churros!" He exclaimed, his obvious excitement causing his English and Spanish to mix.

I allowed a small smile in the darkness of my corner of the car. _It's kinda cute actually_. I suddenly blinked, shaking the thoughts out of my head. _Stop it right this second, Lovino Vargas! I ordered myself. Don't even think like that!_

"What about you, Lovino?" A laughing feminine voice broke into my thoughts. "Do you want churros?"

What kind of question was that anyway? That was like asking if we needed air! "Hell yeah!" I said, forgetting all about being dignified. I don't think she really cared, seeing Gilbert didn't have the cleanest mouth either and she never got on his case.

"Well then," she said happily, "We'll stop by the store to get some supplies, okay?" We all agreed, and she pointed the car in the necessary direction and took off.

Allow me to point something out: Ms. Carriedo's churros were practically world famous- at least they had been the biggest hit in our school. Apparently, she had made a batch of them for Antonio's tenth birthday and brought them to school- where they immediately became loved by everyone. Kids literally went to his house just to eat the delicacy.

My first exposure to them had been during lunch one day. I had been having a hard time getting to our usual table because, much to my surprise, there was a crowd of people around. Even though I hated large groups of people I was eager to get to my food so I shamelessly pushed and cursed at the majority of the idiots who were in my way.

I had finally neared the center when I heard Gilbert's loud, "Kesesese! Anton, if you would just sell those awesome things, you'd make a whole crap-ton of money! Then you wouldn't be so broke all the time!"

Antonio laughed, then announced to everyone else that he was out of whatever it was they had gathered around for, causing them to groan in disappointment and slowly wander back to their food.

I finally plopped into my seat and glared at the three of them. "What the hell was that all about?"

Antonio smiled at me and pulled a strange-looking pastry out of its hiding place. "Here," he said, offering it to me. "I saved the last one for you."

I eyed it suspiciously; I wasn't prone to trying new foods, not after Gilbert had tricked me into eating a bite of wurst. "What the fuck is that?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow at it.

Francis stopped flirting with a group of girls who were passing and let out a loud gasp. "Have you never eaten a churro?" He asked in shock. I shook my head slowly.

If I remembered correctly, the previous year(before I knew the Bad Touch Trio) Feliciano had waltzed up to me one day and told me that this Spanish guy named Antonio had given him a churro, but I had had no fucking clue what that was and simply lectured my stupid brother on not taking food from random strangers.

So this weirdly-shaped fried thing was a churro, huh? Interesting.

"You have to try it!" Gilbert ordered. _"Mutter_ Josefa makes the most awesome churros the world has ever known!" That Potato honestly didn't know shit about food, so he really should have stayed quiet; I didn't trust his input at all. But, the others kids had snatched them up like they were fresh zeppoles, and it was Antonio who was offering it to me. He wouldn't try to give me food poisoning, right?

I decided to take a chance and hesitantly reached for the churro and grumbled a _"grazie."_ I stared at it for a moment before I finally had the guts to take a small nibble. Damn, these were good! It was a little cold, but other than that, it was fantastic! I took another bite, a larger and less graceful one, and successfully managed to get sugar all over my face.

"You seem to be enjoying that, ohhonhonhon!" Francis laughed with a wink.

I nearly choked. Only I would end up overzealously eating awkwardly shaped foods around a bunch of perverts. I hid my messy face behind my hand and shot him a glare that could've killed him right then and there if only looks held that power. "Perverted Snail Bastard!" I growled in humiliation.

"Don't worry about Francis," Antonio encouraged. "Do you like the churro?"

It was his turn to receive a death glare, as I was somewhat convinced that he was going to twist my words and actions into a sexual innuendo just like his friends. "It's alright," I muttered.

The Spaniard pursed his lips as his smile fell slightly. "I know it was kinda cold- I tried to set it aside for you and that backfired...they're better fresh though."

 _Oh, so he was being genuine..._ "Then you'll have to get me a fresh one sometime, Bastard," I retorted, a small smile on my face.

He brightened immediately. "Oh yes! Definitely! When do you want to come over? Sometime this week? My mom wouldn't mind..." His eyes seemed to dance as he rambled happily, carelessly slipping into his native language to convey just how excited he was by the thought of me going to his house.

"Toni," Gilbert laughed. "You're doing it again."

 _"¿Qué?"_

"Spanish," Francis elaborated.

 _"Lo siento,"_ Antonio said quickly, oblivious to the fact that he hadn't corrected himself. I couldn't help but smile: it was an interesting quirk...

At the store, we quickly realized that Ms. Carriedo had been plotting for some time, for she handed a list to Francis, and one to me as well. "Lovino, you and Antonio are looking for flour, sugar, and things like that," she directed as I glanced over the list. "Francis and Gilbert are with fresh products. I'll grab some cooking utensils, as I am sure there aren't any in our room. We'll meet in front of registrar one in fifteen minutes. Agreed?"

"Yes ma'am!" Antonio grinned while he snapped to attention and saluted crisply as his mother laughed and attempted to swat him with her purse.

"You're too much," she complained dramatically. _"¡Ahora ve! Prisa."_

"So, what are we looking for, _mi tomate?"_ Antonio questioned as we took off in the direction of the baking goods.

I looked over the list again. "I'm not your tomato, bastard. And we need all-purpose flour, vegetable oil, salt, and sug- CHIGI!" Due to my classic gracefulness, I tripped right in the middle of the aisle and fell flat on my face, hitting my lip on the hard ground.

Antonio was at my side in an instant, picking me back up. "Are you alright, Lovi?" He asked worriedly.

I glared at him, my face growing warm at my clumsiness. "Bastard! This is all your damn fault! If you hadn't told me to check the list, I wouldn't have fallen, you jerk!" I licked my lips and tasted blood. _Shit._

Antonio looked so upset I actually felt bad for him as I watched him dig through his pockets for a handkerchief. "I'm so sorry," he murmured, gently wiping at my lip as I winced. "You're right, I shouldn't have done that. And now you're hurt because I was being stupid..."

I blinked up at him in shock. It had clearly been my fault- I was the idiot who hadn't been watching where I was going, not him. Yet he was going to sit there and take all the blame. Do you see how terrible I am? This is why people don't love me.

"No, it was my fault," I said softly. "I'm...sorry for yelling at you. You didn't do anything wrong." He stared back at me in surprise. I was surprised myself: I never apologized for anything. I felt a blush start to creep up my neck and quickly weaseled out of his arms, striding down the aisle in search for the salt.

* * *

 _Who the hell said this would be a good idea?!_ I wanted to scream as I buried my head in the pillow that had been sitting on the couch of our hotel room. The place smelled warm and cozy as the aroma of nearly finished churros filled the suite, but I was far from feeling at home, sitting on the couch between Antonio and Gilbert. The lights were off everywhere except the kitchen, which was behind us, so the main source of light was coming from the flickering TV, and that was the last place I wanted to look.

Spanish horror movies- I now knew why Arthur, Feli, and everyone else warned me against them so strongly. I couldn't even handle normal horror; why hadn't I said anything when I had the chance? I clutched the pillow tighter as I tried to drown out the creepy music and sound effects, sweat rolled down my face and mingled with my tears as they soaked into my comfort object. I only hoped the bastards continued being oblivious idiots and wouldn't notice how embarrassingly terrified I was.

"Woah..." Gilbert murmured as a whole shitload of muffled screaming came from the TV. "Check it out: I can see her insides!" I wanted to throw up.

"The churros are ready!" Ms. Carriedo announced, her voice becoming louder as she entered the room. On second thought, perhaps all I needed was something warm and sugary in my stomach.

I jerked my head up so suddenly my pillow was knocked onto the floor, and my eyes caught a glimpse of the bloody scene in the movie, the antagonist standing over a mutilated body. I shrieked at the sight, and shielded my face in the first thing I could find: which just so happened to be Antonio's chest.

"Lovi?" He asked in surprise as he noticed how badly I was trembling. I could feel his fingers lace through my hair comfortingly as someone paused the movie, putting a temporary end to the terrible sounds.

"Is he okay?" Ms. Carriedo asked gently.

"I think so, the movie freaked him out a little," Antonio answered.

I screwed my eyes closed and stayed quiet, listening to the comforting sound of his steady heartbeat, my ragged breaths slowing as they subconsciously matched his.

"Do you want a churro, Lovi?" He asked softly, his voice a bit muffled as he was nuzzling my hair- avoiding my curl thankfully.

I let out a shaky breath and muttered a, "Yes, Bastard." I lifted my head tentatively, avoiding eye contact with him as I grabbed one of the churros and nibbled on it.

Antonio put an arm around my shoulders and pulled me against him, but I didn't complain. Much. _"Idiota,"_ I hissed from behind my churro. "Who said I wanted to be close to you, hm?" But if I was honest with myself, he was really warm and comfortable.

"You're the one who was practically snuggling with him two seconds ago," Francis pointed out, before deep throating the poor churro, forcing me to look away before I threw up.

After we finished consuming our snacks, Gilbert started complaining about putting the movie back on. I shivered slightly, leaning into Antonio's comforting chest and hoping he would sense my discomfort. "You two can finish, I think Lovi and I are going to take a walk," he said.

I frowned. "As if I wanted to go anywhere with you, Tomato Bastard." Translation: Thanks. And judging by the knowing smile he gave me, he understood.

* * *

 **Translations**

 _Sí por favor(Spanish)-_ Yes please

 _Sabrosos(Spanish)-_ Tasty

 _Mutter(German)-_ Mother

 _Grazie(Italian)-_ Thank you

 _¿Qué?(Spanish)-_ What?

 _Lo siento(Spanish)-_ I'm sorry

 _¡Ahora ve! Prisa(Spanish)-_ Now go! Hurry.

 _Mi tomate(Spanish)-_ My tomato

 _Idiota(Italian)- Idiot_

 ** _A/N: Just a cute, fluffy chapter for my lovelies!_**

 ** _Oh! And as a note, most drill sergeants are reluctant about letting them spend the night at the hotel, but they will sometimes if they're with a parent or their spouse. Just some random facts I discovered._**

 ** _Like always, enjoy and review!_**

 ** _I love you all!_**

 ** _altera vita mea_**


	12. Chapter 12

_Loving a Stranger_

 _Chapter twelve: If he's Insecure, Let Him Know You Love Him(Even Though He'll Probably Ignore Everything You Say) ~by: Antonio Fernandez Carriedo_

 _(A/N: That's right, a chapter in Antonio's POV. You guys deserve it for being so awesome!)_

"Who would have thought a hotel would have so many rooms?" I questioned as Lovi and I strolled through yet another abandoned floor. This one seemed to be dedicated to ballrooms and meeting rooms, and was much more extravagant than the normal floors. The Italian beside me let out a short grunt of agreement, but other than that he stayed quiet. I snuck a glance at him, noticing how he hid his hands in the pockets of his too-large sweatshirt and looked everywhere except at me. I couldn't help but smile: he was so adorable!

"Why are you staring at me, creepy bastard?" He snapped, suddenly fixing his glare on me.

I chuckled and wrapped my arms around him. "Because you're so cute, Lovi!" I cooed.

He turned tomato-red and pulled away. "Shut your damn mouth. I am not cute!" I sighed slightly, wishing there was something I could do or say to make him feel better about himself. Why couldn't he see how much he meant to me?

"What's in there?" I asked, pointing to closed double doors.

Lovino shrugged. "Probably another boring empty room."

"Should we check it out?"

"Humph. I don't care."

I took that as a yes and pulled the doors open, blinking once or twice to take everything in. "Stop gawking and let me see, you stupid bastard!" Lovino grumbled, pushing past me. It was yet another ballroom, but this one was far nicer than all the others we had seen, although it was empty and didn't posses tables, or much of anything for that matter. The dancefloor seemed to shine, calling us inside like we were old friends.

"It looks like a fairy tale, _mi tomate,"_ I breathed in enchantment.

Lovi shot another glare at me. "That has to be the cheesiest fucking thing I've ever heard you say," he muttered with a shake of his head, that adorable little curl of his bouncing.

"Let's go," I said, taking his hand and pulling him inside.

"Go to hell! Don't touch me!"

I stuck out my bottom lip, but didn't release him. "But Lovi! I wanna dance with you!"

He blushed, but whether it was from embarrassment or anger, I didn't know. _"I-idiota,"_ he stammered. "We don't even have music, you Tomato Freak!"

"We can change that," I protested, letting go of his hand so I could reach into my pocket for my cell phone. I hadn't been able to bring it during Basic Training, but my mother- being the saint she is- brought it along with her. I selected a song with a sentimental smile on my face as the guitar began to softly play.

I looked to the Italian beside me to see his reaction, taking in how his hazel eyes widened in recognition. "This is...our song..." He said softly.

I nodded happily and bowed. _"¿Quieres bailar conmigo?"_

He flushed. "Bastard! I'm not a fucking princess!"

But he hesitantly gave me his hand as I pulled him close, moving my feet to the music. Another instrument joined the guitar; to the uneducated it would sound like a violin- but I knew those deeper, richer notes were played by a viola, Lovi's viola to be exact.

As I led him through the dance, my thoughts wandered to times past, back when he would come over after his orchestra practice with his instrument in hand. While we waited for my mother to finish a batch of churros, I would pull out my guitar while he unpacked his viola, expertly tuning it as he ordered me to play something. I would smile and play a few chords, and he would listen to where I was going before joining in. I have never seen anything as beautiful as my precious Lovi pouring his heart over that instrument. He looked so...happy. I couldn't help but stare: it was one of those situations that had helped me come to the conclusion that I was in love with him.

"We should write a song, _mi tomate,"_ I had sighed once.

He stopped playing and raised an eyebrow at me. "It would be stupid. No one would listen to it."

"I would," I said earnestly. "I'd listen to it every day, you'd listen to it once in awhile, and no one else needs to know about it."

Lovino thought about it then smiled, causing my stomach to somersault. "Fine bastard."

We had slaved over that song, working, editing, and perfecting for several long weeks. Once we were finally satisfied with our outcome, we had someone record it for us. It was still our secret- no one else on the planet knew it existed.

I looked down at the dark-haired Italian in my arms, whose clumsy tendencies hadn't followed him to the dance floor, and pulled him closer. My heart nearly skipped a beat when he didn't struggle and rested his head on my shoulder. "This is so stupid, bastard," he murmured. "If anyone was to walk by and see us dancing like this, we'd be sent to a damn asylum."

I chuckled. "Do you think so?" I lifted my left arm to lead him into a graceful spin, laughing when he returned to my chest with a red face.

"Didn't I already tell you I'm not a princess?" He demanded, suddenly interested in our feet. We grew quiet after that, listening to a song we hadn't heard in months, indulging in our own thoughts. Lovi allowed me to spin him again, and I thought I saw the shadow of a smile on his face before he hid in my shoulder. The song ended, and our dance followed suit, but we didn't move away from each other.

My eyes went from his eyes to his lips, and I smiled. "I love you, Lovi."

He glanced down again and wiggled out of my arms. _"Bastardo,"_ he muttered in a husky voice, sneaking a glance at me; were those tears in his eyes? Before I could ask him what was wrong, he turned and ran out.

I frowned and ran a hand through my hair- although there wasn't much there unfortunately. "Ay yai yai," I muttered. "Where did I mess up?"

"Go after him, _mon ami."_

I slapped a hand over my mouth to keep myself from screaming, my poor heart nearly gave out on me as I whirled around to see Francis emerging from behind a curtain. _How and when did he get there?_ "That's not important," he said with a shake of his head when I asked. "You need to follow him."

"I don't think he wants to see me," I muttered gloomily. I didn't understand: Francis' advise usually got people together, it was because of him that couples like Lukas and Mathias, and Gilbert and Elizabeta were happy. I had been following his guidance for years, and where has that gotten me? _Should I just give up?_ I clenched my fists slightly. _No, I refuse to give up on mi tomate. But what else can I do?_

Francis seemed to notice my doubts and placed a hand on my shoulder. "Trust me, he does," he said sincerely. "Lovino is a little confused and has some trust issues, that's all."

I sighed. "What do I do, _mi amigo?_ All he ever does is push me away."

"Go after him. Let him know you love him and keep at it: you'll have that Italian in your bed in no time!"

I felt my face go red and shook my head as to get rid of the mental images my friend had put in my brain. "Do you know where he went?"

The Frenchman pointed towards the ceiling. "Up."

* * *

 _I hope this is what Francis meant,_ I thought as I crept down the hall of the highest floor of the hotel- I think it was somewhere around the seventieth. So far, there was no sign of my little Lovi. I sighed again as I reached the end of the hall with no luck; all there was was a door with a sign that read 'employees only.' I cracked the door open and discovered another flight of stairs. They probably lead to the roof, is what I figured. The question was; would Lovino risk going up there?

"Definitely," I murmured, slipping inside and closing the door behind me. I practically ran up the stairs and opened the next door, exposing myself to the chilly night air. I shivered slightly as I looked around the roof, finally locating the small frame of Lovino leaning against the railing with his back to me. "Lovi?" I asked softly, taking a step closer to him as the door slammed shut.

He sniffled, and wiped his face with his sleeve. "Why?"

I blinked and cocked my head to the side. "Huh?"

He turned toward me and shook his head. "Why do you love me of all fucking people? What the hell do you see in me?" He looked down. "There's nothing good about me."

I reached over and cupped his trembling chin, tilting his head up. "You're the only one who thinks that," I assured, gently wiping his tears away. "Lovi, I love you because you're so complex- and no matter how long we've known each other I'm still learning new things about you. I love that little curl you never let me touch, the beautiful color of your eyes, your smile- although I do not see it often, but it means so much to me when I do. I love how passionate you are about things not many people care about, how you're the only one who loves tomatoes as much as I do, how you look like one when you're blushing."

As if on cue, the olive-colored skin turned red beneath my fingers, and I kissed his forehead softly. "I love how you act indifferent and spiteful towards things or people- like Feliciano- but you really care about them more than anything. I love how talented you are; you play the viola so wonderfully, those rare moments when you sing sound heavenly, and you're one of the best chefs I know. I love you because you're you."

"You're so cheesy," he grumbled, a smile slightly gracing his features. He paused, biting his lip nervously. "Do you mean it?"

"Every syllable," I said earnestly.

Lovi stepped closer, letting me wrap my arms around him in a hug. "Then promise me that you won't forget me," he murmured into my shoulder.

I nodded, "I promise, _mi pequeño Lovi,_ I could never forget you for as long as I live."

I'm not sure how long we stood there, but I slowly became conscious of how cold it was outside. "Are you cold?" I asked, squeezing him slightly. Lovi shook his head. "I was, but you're warm, bastard. We should go inside though."

I agreed to that, and held his hand as I turned back to the door and grabbed the handle. It wouldn't turn. "What?" I muttered, vainly attempting to twist it again.

"Are we locked out?" Lovi asked, taking his hand back so I could try again with both hands.

I nodded. _"Sí,_ I think so. Come on, there's probably another door on the other side."

He muttered a, "There better be," and followed me to the other side of the roof.

I shivered again and slipped my hands into my pockets to warm them up. _When did it get so cold out here?_

We found another door, this one bearing the warning, "Do Not Open Door Or Alarm Will Sound." I gulped. "Now what?"

Lovino pushed past me. "We open the door, dammit. There is no way in hell I'm going to stay out here and freeze my balls off." With that, he yanked open the door in determination.

I closed my eyes, expecting a loud alarm to go off right over our heads, and red lights to start flashing, But the only thing I heard was Lovino's laughter. "Bastard! You actually thought we would get in trouble, didn't you?" He scoffed as he ducked inside.

I shook my head at him. "You can't blame me for thinking that, Lovi! The sign said-"

"Screw what the sign said. It was obviously just a scare tactic."

We continued down the long flight of stairs until the Italian in front of me stopped shortly, causing me to bump into his back. "Sorry," I murmured automatically.

"Shhh!" He hissed, his face going white.

"What is it?" I whispered. Lovi didn't say anything, so I stayed quiet, straining my ears in attempt to hear whatever it was that had freaked him out. That was when I heard it, the steady sound of footsteps coming down the stairs behind us.

"Run!" I shouted as we took off, leaping and bounding down the stairs until our momentum was too much for us to control and we nearly fell.

"HEY!" A voice yelled behind us. "WAIT!"

"Like hell we're going to wait!" Lovino shouted over his shoulder as we made it- somewhat safely- to the bottom of the stairs and sprinted toward the elevators. I punched the down arrow repeatedly as Lovi swore in between ragged huffs. "Where...is the...damn...elevator..?!" He demanded as the footsteps grew louder.

"AHA!"

We were suddenly tackled and fell to the ground in a tangled heap. "You'll never take me to jail!" Lovino was screaming, punching and kicking blindly, nearly hitting me several times in the fury of his flailing limbs.

"Ouch! Lovino, it's me! The awesome Gilbert! Stop hitting me!"

The Italian stopped his assaults and sat up, scowling. "What the hell is wrong with you, sneaking around like that, you stupid albino bastard?!"

"Sorry about that, Gil," I apologized. "You just surprised us, that's all."

"Why are you apologizing, Tomato Bastard? He's the one who was stalking us."

Gilbert ran a hand through his hair and smirked. "You should have seen your faces! It was awesome how terrified you were! Did you really think I was going to take you to jail? How fun."

It was then the elevator decided to open its doors, causing Lovi to go into a long rant about the timing.

* * *

"Alright," Francis said in his best business voice. "Sleeping arrangements. In case you didn't notice, there are only three beds in this entire suite, and _Maman_ Josefa has the one in the other room. That means," he gave us all that look: the look that meant he was thinking up something perverted. "Two people to one bed."

Lovino, who had been sitting fairly quietly on one of the beds, looked up from his phone with a red face. "I think I'm going to sleep on the floor," he muttered.

I shook my head. "But Lovi, there won't be enough blankets for you. You could get sick."

He glared at me, a scowl forming on his lips. "I'll be fine, perverted bastard."

I smiled and sat down beside him. "Would sharing a bed with me be that bad?" I asked, watching as he grew even more flustered.

"I- uh...who the hell ever s-said we would share?" He stuttered.

Francis grinned like the Cheshire cat, his blue eyes sparkling evilly. "Would you rather be with me?"

Lovi gagged and scooted closer to my side, much to my delight. "You better stay far away from me, Snail Bastard," he warned the Frenchman.

"See? Why are you complaining?" Gilbert questioned with a frown. "I'm the one who has to be with him." He shot Francis a dangerous look. "If so much as your toenail touches me, I will dump your unawesome ass on the floor."

Francis held up his hands in mock surrender. "Do you not trust me, _mon ami?"_

Gilbert laughed shortly. "Not as far as I could throw you- and that's far, believe me."

Lovino climbed off the bed and grabbed some clothes out of his suitcase, muttering about taking a shower as he stalked into the bathroom and all but slammed the door.

Once he was gone, the rest of us stripped down to our boxers as if we had done it a thousand had, actually. "This is just like old times," I said thoughtfully, pulling an undershirt over my head.

Gilbert smirked as he folded up his dirty clothes and set them on top of the dresser. Contrary to popular belief he was actually the one who had taught Ludwig to be such a neat freak. "I guess it is, but back then the three of us would share one bed instead of you running off with your grumpy Italian boyfriend and leaving me alone with this unawesome thing-" he gestured at Francis, who was innocently brushing through his long golden locks.

I laughed. "But Lovi and I aren't dating. And I hardly ran off on you; Francis was the one who came up with the sleeping arrangement."

The Frenchman suddenly looked up and pointed at me with his brush. "You should be thanking me. I told you I would get him in bed with you and voila! I have done it!"

I blushed slightly, while Gilbert huffed. _"Ja,_ that's awesome and all, but don't forget there are other people in the room. Francis probably wouldn't mind it, but I have no interest in listening to- _that_ \- while I'm trying to sleep."

Francis pretended to be appalled, but blinked in confusion as Gilbert proceeded to grab all the extra pillows to construct a divider down the center of the bed. "What are you doing?" He asked with a raise of an eyebrow.

"You are not allowed to cross this line," Gilbert explained. "If you do, I will-"

"You mean, like this?" Francis asked as he reached over and put his entire arm in Prussian territory, while said Prussian shot him a murderous look.

"You've signed a death wish," he declared, before snatching up one of the pillows and slamming it into the other's face, causing him to fall off the bed with a loud thud. "Kesesese! It must suck balls to have fallen like that! Did you hit your poor little head?"

Francis suddenly leapt up and and hurled another pillow at Gilbert. He missed, and instead it hit me in the gut.

"I'm claiming Antonio!" Gilbert announced, blocking Francis' attacks with yet another pillow.

I shrugged and jumped off the bed to join them. And just like that, a pillow fight was created. With Gilbert's and my combined efforts, we were able to hold the French lunatic back, until he managed to dodge my last attack and my pillow slammed right into...someone...

"What the fuck?!"

I dropped the pillow and stared at Lovino, who had apparently chosen the wrong moment to step out of the bathroom. He had dropped everything he had been carrying and was simply glaring at me furiously. _Looks like I'm sleeping on the couch tonight._

"I'm so sorry Lovi!" I said quickly, taking a step back as I raised my hands. "It was an accident, I swear!"

He didn't look convinced, and took a threatening step towards me, while I took another step back.

"Lovino is on my team!" Francis shouted as his pillow crashed into Gilbert's, unaware of the danger I was in.

I noticed a scary look in the Italian's eyes and stepped back again, gulping as he picked up a pillow from the ground and slowly advanced. "Lovi?" I saw his lips twist into a sadistic smirk, and I shivered slightly. The back of my knees hit our bed, and I fell onto the mattress.

That was when he struck, pouncing on me as he hit me over the head repeatedly with the pillow. "You stupid bastard!" He growled.

"I'm sorry!" I protested, vainly attempting to intercept his weapon.

"Oh honhonhon! Things are getting interesting over there!" I heard a familiar French accent laugh.

Lovino froze as he suddenly became aware of the fact that I was in my boxers and he was straddling my waist, then he blushed a brighter red than any tomato I've seen.

There was my opening.

He yelped as I suddenly flipped us over and pinned his hands above his head to prevent him from hitting me again. "Antonio- damn you! Let me go!" He shouted as he squirmed under me, trying and failing to get out of my grasp.

Someone slammed a pillow down on my head, allowing Lovino to escape while I grabbed the weapon out of Gilbert's hands. It had been a long time since I had had fun like this, and I was happy to be spending this limited time with those three.

* * *

 **Translations**

 _Mi tomate(Spanish)-_ My tomato

 _Idiota(Italian)-_ Idiot

 _¿Quieres bailar conmigo?(Spanish)-_ Do you want to dance with me?

 _Bastardo(Italian)-_ Bastard

 _Mon ami(French)-_ My friend

 _Mi amigo(Spanish)-_ My friend

 _Mi pequeño Lovi(Spanish)-_ My little Lovi

 _Sí(Spanish/Italian)-_ Yes

 _Maman(French)-_ Mother

 _Ja(German)-_ Yes

 ** _A/N: This is my official Christmas gift to you all, as this chapter is my favorite one so far! It's just….so adorable! I hope you all liked it...no loved it! I am so happy that this story has received so much love! I would have never expected it. So thank you all so very much and have a very Merry Christmas!_**

 ** _I love you all!_**

 ** _altera vita mea_**


	13. Chapter 13

_Loving a Stranger_

 _Chapter thirteen: And Then He's Gone..._

It was unnerving, waking up in the same bed as Antonio- especially when I figured out that sometime in the night my unconscious body had rolled right up next to him. I almost screamed the second I opened my eyes and saw him literally right there. I tried to move back to my side of the bed, but he had an arm wrapped around my ribs, pinning me in my spot.

There was only one way to do this then. "Hey, bastard! Wake up!" I ordered, poking at his smiling face- what the hell, he doesn't even stop smiling in his sleep apparently.

Antonio's green eyes fluttered open and his smile grew as he hugged me. "Good morning Lovi! Did you sleep well?"

I frowned and attempted to pry his body off me. "Get off!"

In the other bed, Francis sat up and stretched- his hair looking like some crazy bird's nest. If I could I would have reached for my phone and taken a picture for blackmail purposes. His blue eyes rested on us and a grin slipped into his tired lips as he wagged his eyebrows. "Looks like someone had a fun night," he said.

I glared at him. "We didn't do anything, you stupid-"

I was cut off by a knock on the door. "Are you boys awake?" Ms. Carriedo asked from the other side.

Antonio finally let me go and sat up. _"Sì Mamá,"_ he replied. "Everyone's up except Gilbert-" We all glanced over at the potato passed out on the bed, snoring blissfully with his arm dangling close to the floor.

"Wake him up, _hijo._ We have to leave in half an hour. I have breakfast made out here when you boys are ready."

"Half an hour?" Francis squeaked, gathering up his belongings and scurrying to the bathroom.

"Don't take too long!" Antonio called after him. "Gilbert and I still need the shower!"

I smirked as I climbed off the bed, before a certain Spaniard could make another grab for me. "There are benefits to showering at night, _idiota."_

The morning was hectic, everyone was running around gathering their clothes from the closets and snuck bites of food while we ironed our "Sunday Best." My heart felt heavy as I moved through the motions without zeal, despite the excitement that pumped through the other's veins. _This isn't even over yet,_ I thought, glancing at Antonio, who was laughing with Francis while buttoning up his uniform. _He isn't going back with us; he's going off to do even more training before he's shipped off to the field- and who knew when he was coming home._ I hated to admit it, but I had had fun the night before- actual fun. But Antonio wasn't going to be there to laugh at, to comfort me when I was alone or scared, to be annoying and ask me to dance with him of all retarded things, to snoop around hotels with. It was just going to be me and those two bastards who thought they were my nanny or something. How depressing.

I felt the weight on the bed shift and looked up to see Antonio sitting beside me, a concerned look on his face. "You okay Lovi?" He asked. "You look upset."

I shook my head at him. For a oblivious idiot he was really in tune to my emotions- he could pick up on them almost before I could. "I'm fine, bastard," I lied, tracing patterns into the comforter. I really wasn't sure what my problem was; I hadn't feel like this the first time he left.

Antonio scooted closer and wrapped his arms around my waist. "You act as if I can't tell when something is bothering you, _mi tomate,"_ he whispered, his breath tickling the back of my neck.

Damn, why did he have to know me so well? I blushed and leaned into him automatically. "It's just...you're leaving again bastard," I sighed. "I don't know when I'll see you again either. Don't think this means I'll miss you, because I won't. It's just different when you're away..."

He nuzzled into my neck, and I could feel his lips quirk into a sad smile. "I know Lovi. I'll miss you too."

I twisted around and shot a him a glare. "Stupid bastard, did you not just hear me say that I won't miss you?" I demanded, trying to ignore the unstable wobbling of my voice.

"Sometimes what you say and what you mean are totally different things," Gilbert noted.

"Stop eavesdropping, you noisy bastard!" I growled, successfully getting him to shut his damn mouth.

Antonio was still hugging me tightly, and I had a sneaking suspicion that he was attempting to keep himself composed. "It will be over before we know it," he was murmuring. "By the time you realize you miss me I'll be back. But you know something that will make it easier?"

I sniffed and blinked repeatedly. "Uh...what?"

"If you actually write me back, _mi corazón,"_ he whispered, kissing my cheek softly.

I blushed and stared down at my hands. "I'll think about it."

* * *

"When are you leaving, bastard?" I questioned, picking around my plate. I felt like I should be eating, but the weird feeling in my chest had called in reinforcements: a searing headache and a seriously screwed up stomach. Just looking at all this food made me want to run to the bathroom and- I won't go into details.

Antonio looked at me worriedly, then seemed to be going over the schedule in his mind. "Hmm... I think our sector is getting shipped out at...was it two?" He turned to João, who was subtly glaring at their flirting parents and not paying attention. "João?"

Antonio delivered a kick to the other's shin, causing a few hushed swears to slip from the Portuguese' mouth. "Oi, what's your problem?"

"Besides you? I just wanted to know when we are leaving."

"Two, yeah it was two. Now stop talking to me; I'm going to have to put up with you enough later on."

"Like I said yesterday," Gilbert laughed. "Brothers. They argue almost as much as Ludwig and I!"

João turned his glare at the Prussian bastard and slammed his face into his plate: I think I like this guy even more. Antonio and Francis were literally howling, and the latter reached into his pocket and retrieved his phone. "I should send this to Elizabeta," he said. "I'm sure she'll find it sexy." Gilbert was sputtering and cursing as he wiped bits of steak off his face, making empty threats to the triumphant João(really, what was he going to do to a soldier anyway?) I allowed a small smile, the first one that day, and continued poking my food relentlessly.

"Lovi, are you going to eat?" Antonio asked me, his eyebrows furrowed as a small frown formed on his face.

I sighed irritably. _It is ridiculous how concerned he was getting recently. I can take care of my own damn self!_ "I'm not hungry," I muttered with another poke at the food.

"You didn't eat much yesterday either," he pointed out. "I only saw you eat a churro the entire day."

Francis glanced up from his phone. "I noticed you didn't look so good during the graduation."

"And you've been really quiet too," Gilbert added with a raise of an eyebrow.

I clenched my teeth. "I'm fine," I growled out.

Antonio wasn't convinced and brought the back of his hand to my forehead, and then to my cheeks. "Hey! Stupid Tomato Bastard, stop touching me!"

"You don't have a fever," he murmured to himself.

Ms. Carriedo finally stopped flirting and looked over at us. "Is he sick?" She asked.

I groaned. "No I'm alright. Everyone stop worrying over nothing. I'll be fine."

* * *

But I wasn't.

I had thought that maybe I was simply feeling a little anxious about Antonio's departure, that I would feel better after he left. Ha, who the hell was I trying to fool? I ended up feeling even more miserable without him and I refused to talk to anyone the entire return trip.

I knew my actions were worrying the others- Ms. Carriedo continuously tried to get me to speak or at the very least eat something, and the two idiots kept giving me concerned glances and made loud, awkward jokes in attempt to get me to crack a smile. It didn't work, and all of them eventually gave up and left me alone.

 _I'll be fine,_ I kept telling myself. _I just need to go home, get some rest, eat some amazing Italian delicacies. Just watch, by tomorrow I won't even be thinking about that jerk Antonio._ Ugh, I was lying to myself and I knew it.

* * *

 **Translations**

 _Sì Mamá(Spanish)-_ Yes Mom

 _Hijo(Spanish)-_ Son

 _Idiota(Italian)-_ Idiot

 _Mi tomate(Spanish)-_ My tomato

 _Mi corazón(Spanish)-_ My heart

 ** _A/N: This was a short chapter, I know. But it was an important transition. I feel like it kinda kicked my ass though…._**

 ** _Oh, and due to stress and massive writer's blocks, I'm going to limit my updating schedule to once a week- so I'll have a new chapter up every Sunday. I'm sorry for any inconveniences, but this is so I don't burn out and leave you all hanging._**

 ** _Like always, grace me with awesome reviews, awesome people!_**

 ** _altera vita mea_**


	14. Chapter 14

_Loving a Stranger_

 _Chapter fourteen: Realization and Desolation- That is My Life_

 _ **(A/N: WARNING: I apologize in advance for any pain I may cause you. There is a lot of depression and some self-harm in this chapter. Sorry…)**_

"How was the graduation?" Nonno asked, not taking his eyes off the TV.

 _Doesn't he look pretty damn interested in how the graduation was?_ I thought moodily. "It was hell," I muttered, dragging my bag through the living room. "I hated it."

"Oh, that's great Lovino. I'm glad you had fun."

I raised an eyebrow. He hadn't heard a thing I had said. "Yeah," I grumbled with a soft growl. "Thanks." Now, if I had been Feli, Nonno would have hung on to every fucking word that came out of his mouth. Hell, if my baby brother had been feeling as down as I was, Nonno would have sat him down on the couch, fetched him a nice big bowl of gelato, and comforted him. But since it was me….

I kicked open my door and threw my bag onto the floor, all but slamming the door behind me as I flopped onto my bed, tears pooling in my eyes. Why did my own grandfather have to be so cold towards me? I knew he didn't hate me, but it was obvious he didn't like me either- at least he didn't like me as much as he liked Feliciano.

I sighed, dragging my sleeve across my face to wipe away my tears. Why was I even asking? I knew the answer. Feliciano was better than me, he wasn't a fucking screw up like me. He was kindhearted and cute, people liked him, people needed him. No one needed me.

I had gotten close to thinking that maybe Antonio needed me a little, maybe that was why he had always been such a clingy creep. But if I was really that important to him, then he wouldn't have left like the stupid asshole that he is.

I sniffed and sat up, my eyes resting on a picture frame lying face down on my desk. Without thinking about how idiotic it was- without contemplating the fact that I had set it like that for a reason- I got up and took it from its place, brushing ten weeks worth of dust from the frame as I looked at the picture. It was taken after one of the school's orchestral performances, which explained why we were dressed so formal. Antonio had an arm slung over my shoulders and was pointing at the camera, smiling and leaning a little towards me as if he had been in the process of talking to me. I was holding my viola in one hand and its bow in the other, allowing a small smile of my own.

"I don't get why you even came, Tomato Bastard," I remember telling him after the performance. "Nobody important to you is in orchestra. Well, besides Bella, but you haven't even talked to her and-"

He had laughed and poked the tip of my nose playfully. "Silly. I'm here for you, Lovi."

I had blushed and turned away. "That's pretty stupid. My fucking family isn't even here, so why the hell should you be?" I had tried to act as though I didn't care that Nonno and Feli had gone to some art fair instead, but it had still hurt! Feli usually attended these things and had felt bad about not going to this one, so he could be forgiven, but Nonno? I can't remember if he had ever heard me play before. But as much as knowing that my family wasn't there for me stung, the fact that Antonio had actually given up a few hours for me did comfort me.

"We should take a picture together!" He had said suddenly.

I had glared at him. "And why the fuck should we do that? Do you just take random pictures with every bastard you know?"

"Well….no," Antonio had said thoughtfully, handing his phone over to some person. "Only with the ones that I care a lot about. And besides, you look really nice."

My face had gone bright red, and for a second I was torn between wanting to swear at him and actually believing what he said. Wait...what? "You lying bastard. Seriously, I bet you've said the same shit to dozens of other people, and they all just started drooling and doing whatever the hell you wanted, huh? Fucking asshole!"

The guy holding the phone had started to look really uncertain, but Antonio told him it was alright and that the picture would still be taken. "Lovi, I'm not messing with you, honest." He had done that weird shit with his eyes, probably some kind of hypnosis he had learned to create human putty in his hands.

Dammit, it worked too. "Hmph. Fine. Take the picture already, idiota."

Antonio had laughed and put an arm over my shoulders, pointing at the camera. "Hurry, before he changes his mind!"

I had sighed, but felt a small smile spread onto my face in spite of myself.

A few days later, I had found the framed picture in my backpack with a note. ' _To Lovi, See? I wasn't lying when I said you looked nice. Please don't feel so bad about yourself, mi tomate. Antonio'_

The spell that the memory had me under was broken when a teardrop slipped off my trembling chin and landed on the glass protecting the picture, causing me to quickly set it back in on the desk in its face down position. "I miss him," I whispered to myself. "I fucking miss him."

As crazy as I sounded even to myself, I knew it was true. I missed him and all his stupidness, I missed his constant, reliable smile that always helped lift me from my problems, I missed feeling loved and wanted…

I fell back onto my bed and kicked off my shoes, not bothering to change, my small sniffles giving way to sobs that shook my shoulders. I wanted him back, I wanted that tomato-crazy Spaniard to wrap his arms around me and tell me that I was important to at least one person in the world.

But at the same time, I was so angry with myself. I wasn't supposed to care! I didn't need anyone; I was fine if people didn't want me because I didn't want people. Why then did I feel so alone without Antonio? Just when I was beginning to think that I was finally getting along alright; I hadn't felt actually depressed since junior year. Why couldn't I just get him out of my mind and think about something else?

I ended up crying myself to sleep, hoping that then I could stop thinking, and that the pain would finally stop.

* * *

But by the next day, I had only gotten worse. All I could think about was Antonio, and thinking about him made my heart ache and caused tears to well in my eyes. I was a mess; I dreamed about him while I was asleep and I cried over him while I was awake. I've never felt so alone, so embarrassingly pitiful, in my entire life.

 _I shouldn't be like this,_ I reasoned with myself. _I shouldn't care. I don't want to care, but I do._

And it consumed me: I couldn't eat, I refused to go to work and called in sick for days as I slowly sunk deeper and deeper into my despair. Francis and Gilbert were attempting to get a hold of me, they kept on calling and texting until I had to turn off my cell phone. I would only bother them anyway, if it hadn't been for Antonio those two wouldn't have given a rat's ass about me. I was better off locked in my room, crying until there were no more tears left and I fell asleep, only to wake up and repeat the process all over again. I lost track of time, how long had I been like this? Two days, five, a week? I had no clue.

Nonno was beginning to get worried as well, and insisted on knocking at my door every once in awhile with a plate of food. If he was lucky, I would nibble a few bites and take a glass of water. "When will you tell me what's bothering you, Lovino?" He asked once, brushing limp clumps of hair out of my red, swollen eyes.

I bit my trembling lip as I vainly attempted to stop myself from crying, but it had gotten to the point where there was nothing I could do to keep the tears away. "D-did anything come in the mail for me?" I asked softly.

Nonno looked confused. "Um...no, I haven't seen anything."

I let out a shaky sigh and buried my head in my pillow. "Go figure. He's probably too busy for me anyway."

"Huh?"

I was disgusted. What the hell was I even doing with myself? I had promised Feli, as well as myself, that I would get better, that my depression was just a phase, that I didn't need medication or therapy, or any of that crap. And here I was, moping around over something so fucking stupid. Who cares if I'm alone? That's the way it's been my entire life. Why was this any different? Why was I sitting there, wallowing in my own tears and filth?

Alright, it was at least time I took a shower, right?

Dragging myself out of bed took a huge effort, and I didn't have a lot of physical strength after days of doing nothing except crying my eyes out every five minutes. I made it to the bathroom and ran some hot water, showers were comforting. As I stripped, I noticed the scars on my thighs and bit the inside of my cheek. Those had been a result of the last time my depression had been this bad- freshman year. At first, I had thought I was doing the stupidest, most cliche thing in the book. I had known better, I had known that cutting myself open would do nothing for my situation. But I had done it anyway, and before I knew it I couldn't stop- at least, not until Feliciano caught me in the process of my new hobby and somehow got me out of it. I couldn't help but remember the feeling of that blade in my control, slowly dragging across my flesh. It had been therapeutic in some sick, twisted way.

 _No,_ I thought to myself, squeezing my eyes closed and bringing my finger away from the scars. _It didn't help, it made things worse. I promised Feli that I would never go that far again, that I would talk to him next time I felt like this._ I started crying again, my tears falling and mixing with the shower water.

 _But Feli isn't here,_ a tempting voice said. _He's gone to do greater things than take care of his basket case older brother. He's gone and left you just like Antonio, and now they're both too busy to help you. As if you can get help anyway! You're too far gone._

I ended up limping back to my room close to an hour later, the pain in my legs was only outweighed by the pain of my guilt. I could almost hear Feliciano crying over what I've done. I'm his older brother for fucks sake! I was supposed to be an example for him, someone he could look up to and be proud of. And look at me! Instead of doing anything of good repute, I still only have a high school education and a shitty job. I wasn't even doing my said shitty job! No, I was sitting on my ass cutting myself and crying like some emo teenager.

Talk about pretty damn pathetic. My brother would be ashamed if he could see me now. And he wouldn't be the only one. If Antonio knew just how fucked up I was, he would be as far away from me as possible.

 _You wanted to know why no one wants you?_ I told myself that night, hot angry tears running down my face. _This is why: you're fucking screwed up Lovino._

* * *

"Don't you think you should get up and go to work today?" Nonno asked me, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked me up and down. I probably looked like the personification of literal shit, but what could I do about it? The last time I tried to fix myself up slightly, I had ended up making everything ten times worse- the pain in my thighs was a testament of that.

I pulled my blanket over my head and groaned. "No," I grumbled. "I don't think I should go to a deeper hell than the one I'm already in."

Nonno sighed, and I felt him sit down on the edge of my bed. "Lovino, talk to me. Something's obviously bothering you, and….I want to be there for you. It's been years since you've been in such an emotional state."

I curled into myself and sniffled indignantly. "That's funny. Last time I recall you giving a shit about me was when I was five."

"I do care about you, Lovino."

"Your way of showing it is pretty fucking amusing."

Instead of getting on my case about my language like he always did, Nonno gently pulled the blanket off my wet face, a questioning look in his eyes. "Don't look so damn innocent!" I snapped irritably. "You've always treated me different from Feliciano. You've never taken the time to get to know me or bond with me or take part in any of my interests. You've always favored him, and you never wanted me because I'm like my mother." By then, I was sobbing again, hiding my face in my hands in embarrassment.

Nonno was quiet for a moment, then he hugged me tightly. "I'm so sorry!" He said, tears running down his own face. "I never meant for you to feel that way. This is my fault, Lovino. It was never my intention to make you feel unloved." I patted his back awkwardly, not used to physical affection from this man. "I guess, you've always seemed so independent. I failed to realize that even though you're not as affectionate as your brother, you still need it too- even if you act as though you don't want it. If I had been a better grandfather, a better guardian, maybe you wouldn't be suffering as badly as you are now."

He pulled away and kissed my forehead. "I love you, Lovino. I'm sorry you ever felt otherwise."

I hiccupped. "Me too…."

Nonno smiled softly. "I have to go to work, but I promise when I get back I will make this up to you somehow. I'll make your favorite meal and tempt you to eat, and we can talk this over, alright?"

I nodded uncertainly. "Okay…"

He stood up. "Get better soon, my grandson. We miss you."

 _I should feel a little better, right?_ I thought as I heard the front door close. _I mean, he needed to hear it. But why do I feel guilty now?_

 _ **A/N: Wow… Again I'm sorry if your day is now black and heavy. I really wasn't expecting myself to do this. I ended up reading an entire article on how to write this kind of stuff, then plugged in two hours worth of depressing music and let my fingers fly. And I ended up crying a bit.**_

 _ **Anywho! HAPPY LATE NEW YEAR! I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! … Yeah, that sounded better in my head… like always, grace me with reviews and adoration XD Thank you for all the love you've given me so far.**_

 _ **You guys are Prussia-awesome!**_

 _ **altera vita mea**_


	15. Chapter 15

_Loving a Stranger_

 _Chapter fifteen: Someone to Keep Me From Falling_

When I awoke sometime later, I noticed several things were different... For one, there was a heavenly aroma coming from the kitchen- and it smelled so good it made my neglected stomach growl in need. Secondly, my room was clean for the first time in days, the curtains had been drawn so that sunlight poured in, and someone had even righted the picture from Antonio and had given it a proper dusting. And also...if I didn't know better, I would say that the figure entering my room with a plate of spaghetti looked a lot like Feliciano.

He blinked in surprise, then smiled brightly. "Ve~ You're awake, fratello!"

"F-Feli?! What the hell are you doing here?"

He set the plate down on my night stand and perched himself on the edge of my bed. "Francis called me. He said that he and Gilbert hadn't been able to get a hold of you since the graduation and they were starting to get worried. I called Nonno, and even though he didn't want to upset me, he had to acknowledge that you hadn't been yourself." He sniffed and blinked back his tears, but a few ended up slipping down his cheeks anyway. "I just knew something really bad had happened...I couldn't stay away a second longer knowing you were hurting!"

My own eyes watered as I sat up. "You left school for me?" He nodded and took my hands in his own, squeezing them tightly. "Ve~! You're my brother; there isn't anything I wouldn't do for you!"

"It isn't supposed to be like this," I sighed. "I'm the oldest: I'm supposed to be helping you out, but I can't even hold myself up emotionally."

Feli released my hands in favor of wrapping his arms around my neck. "But if I was to lean on you and do nothing in return, who would keep you from falling, Lovino? You've always been there for me; you took care of me when I had the flu, when other kids made fun of me you stood up even though you knew they would beat you for it, and you let me stay in your bed whenever I had nightmares."

"You remember that?" I interrupted.

"Ve~! Of course I do."

"It happened so long ago…" I remembered the first night we spent at Nonno's home in Italy. I was lying awake in my new room, trying not to think about the day's long events. Somewhere in my five year old mind I knew that things would be better for my brother and I now that our grandfather had custody of us, but I still missed my parents. I knew they had fought a lot, but they weren't bad people, right? What had they done that was so terrible that we couldn't see them anymore? _Don't cry,_ I ordered myself. _Crying is for babies like Feliciano._

I probably would have lost the internal struggle with myself, but the door to my room creaked open, revealing the cubby face of my little brother. He had definitely passed his time crying, if his red puffy eyes meant anything. "F-fratello?" He whimpered. "Are you awake?"

I sat up and rubbed my eyes. "Yeah."

"I had a bad dream...it was really scary!" He trudged into my room, his arms clutching a stuffed cat Papá had bought for him a few weeks before.

I sighed and scooted towards the far side of the bed, patting the vacant space. "Get over here. I'll keep those stupid dreams away, alright?"

Feli nodded and climbed into bed, curling up next to me as I pulled the blanket over his figure. "Get some sleep, Feliciano," I ordered gently, planting a small kiss to his hair.

"Okay Fratello. I love you."

"Yeah yeah. I love you too."

"I never did much," I whispered, opening my eyes to shake away the memory.

Feli rubbed my back reassuringly. "It doesn't seem like a lot now that we're older, but back then it made all the difference in the world," he stated. "Now you need my help, and I'm going to do my very best to get you out of this."

He released me and wiped at his face before he reached for the forgotten plate. "And, you're going to eat this. I don't know when the last time you had an actual meal was, but you look like you've lost weight."

I rolled my eyes, but took the dish and twirled my fork to catch some spaghetti. "I don't think people lose weight after a couple days," I informed him, raising the fork to my mouth. About fucking time! My body seemed to growl as I eagerly swallowed and went for another forkful.

"Do you like it?" Feli asked.

"Hm...not bad. My recipe is better though."

He chuckled. "Ve~ I know. It's only because you were in the kitchen before you even knew how to walk." I allowed a tiny smile and continued eating quietly.

Feliciano shifted nervously, watching me as if there was something he really wanted to tell me but wasn't sure how to go about it. "Fratello," he sighed finally.

"Hm?"

He fingered the hem of his shirt and bit his lip. "I-I saw something when I came in to clean your room…" I raised an eyebrow, wondering what he could be talking about. Last time I had checked, there wasn't anything in my room that should be kept hidden- well, there were Antonio's letters, but that was because they were personal and slightly embarrassing.

"I promise I didn't go looking for it! I just noticed that your blankets were all twisted, so I went to fix them for you. A-and I saw new markings on your legs."

I froze, nearly dropping my plate as I instinctively curled my legs against my body. My eyes went wide, and I was having a hard time breathing. _No, no, no! He wasn't supposed to find out about that!_ I released I shuddering breath and squeezed my eyes closed, unable to look my brother in the eye.

"I-I'm sorry. I don't know what happened, I-"

"You promised this wouldn't happen again," Feli whispered. "You said you would talk-"

"Who the hell was I supposed to talk to Feli?" I interrupted, snapping my eyes open. "You are too busy, Francis and Gilbert already think I'm a big enough nutcase, Antonio is gone, Nonno would just try to get me fucking therapy or something- and like hell I'm going to sit there and tell some random bastard everything I've kept bottled up for years!" By then, I was crying again, pushing my half eaten plate away as I dug my fingernails into my palms. "Yeah, that's a fucking fantastic idea!" I continued sarcastically, choosing to ignore the tears running down my face. "Because if my own damn family can't help me figure myself out, then a complete stranger will be able to, huh? They'll be able to fix everything!" Mio Dio, what was I even talking about?

Feliciano was breaking down, his shoulders were shaking as he hid his face in his hands. "I was never too busy!" He sobbed. "You could have called me! You don't even try!"

"Maybe because there's no damn point! Feli, you were at school for fucks sake! What did you want me to do: call you in the middle of class and say, 'hey, I'm as depressed as hell. Let me talk to you and stress you out even more.'"

"Ve!"

"No! It doesn't work like that!"

He suddenly jerked his head up, his eyes blazing through his tears. "Fratello, stop it!" He pleaded. "You don't get it, do you? When I had you make that promise, I said you were to talk to me if you ever felt that urge to do it again. That meant that it was my job to be there when you needed me! I don't care if I would have had to get up out of class to talk to you. We agreed that this would be more effective for you than therapy, right?"

I sniffed. "Yeah."

"Then talk to me, Lovino. What's gotten you to this point?" Feli asked, taking a deep breath to calm himself down.

I pursed my lips, glancing at the picture on my desk as I bit the inside of my cheek.

"It's Tonio, isn't it?"

I nodded miserably.

"W-what did he do?"

I shook my head and brought my eyes to my lap. "Nothing. All he did was leave me for the fucking army. Which is important to him for some reason."

"You miss him, don't you?" Feli asked, placing a hand on top of mine.

I nodded again. "I think I do. And Dio, it hurts! He's the only one who's ever made me feel like I actually matter, like I'm important and shit. A-and then he left and I just felt like...like no one else needed me. I guess I couldn't handle it anymore..." I grimaced. Dammit, it sounded even more pathetic out loud! I'm so fucking pitiful!

"Oh Fratello. Tonio isn't the only one who cares about you. You have no idea how distressed Francis and Gilbert sounded when they called me. And Nonno almost started crying over the phone."

"Great," I muttered. "I've managed to make everyone else feel shitty too."

"That wasn't my point," Feli whimpered. I sighed, using my free hand to pat his own. "I know it wasn't. I'm sorry."

"It's fine…"

His voice trailed off for a moment as he stared at our hands, then suddenly looked up with a knowing smile. "So," he said slowly, wiggling his eyebrows. "You miss Tonio."

I scoffed and snatched my hands back. "Don't look at me like that. Just because I miss the idiot's presence doesn't mean I have any feelings towards him."

"Try saying that without blushing, Fratello."

"Ugh. You are so annoying I swear," I grumbled with a dramatic eye roll.

Feli gasped. "But it makes sense!" I raised an eyebrow at him. "Ve~! Do you think it's a coincidence that this is the first time you've had serious depression since you met Tonio? I think he has a healthy effect on you. I think you just might need him, Lovino."

"What the hell? I've never heard something that fucking stupid in my entire life." I protested.

"Aw! Your face got all red, Fratello!"

"Shut. Up."

* * *

"Wait….what are we doing again?" I asked, strapping myself in before my psychopathic little brother could crash into a tree and get the both of us killed. For reasons that quite frankly escape me, he convinced me to let him take me out for the day. There was just one problem: Feliciano was a terrible driver. If I had a dollar for every time he put someone's life at risk while he was behind the wheel then I would be as rich as Bill Gates.

I watched somewhat nervously as he buckled his own seat belt and stuck the key in the ignition. "We're going to have fun! It's been too long since you've gotten out of the house and enjoyed yourself," he said with a wink as the car started.

"Define fun."

"You'll see." Feli giggled and the car jerked out of the driveway as he zoomed down the street.

I braced myself against my seat and screamed in the most manly way possible when he nearly hit a parked car. "FELI! WHAT THE HELL?! STOP THE DAMN CAR! I'LL DRIVE!"

"No need for that, Lovino," he chirped cheerfully. "I read once that it is dangerous to drive when you're feeling really emotional."

"Really? As if allowing you behind the wheel is any safer, idiota!"

"I got better! I've only gotten three speeding tickets in the past two months!"

"That is not something you should be proud of. HOLY SHIT! You took that that turn on two wheels! Two. Fucking. Wheels. Are you trying to kill us?"

Needless to say, we somehow managed to avoid causing an accident, and luckily there were no police around to pull us over, so we arrived at the parking lot to Jensen's Pizzeria somewhat- "Why the hell are we here?" I demanded, glaring at my little brother as he parked. "I thought you said we were going to have fun. This is not fun. This is pretty damn close to torture."

"Exactly."

"Uh...what?"

Feli smiled at me. "You've always hated this place, and I'm pretty sure it has a hand in how you're feeling. So, you're going to go in there and quit."

My eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. Quit my shitty job? That's what I've wanted to do since the moment I got it. But there was one problem. "That sounds pretty fucking amazing, Feli. But what the hell am I going to do with myself without a job, hm?"

"I was thinking you'd go to college like most people."

For a full minute, I didn't say anything. Me in college? That sounded almost as weird as Antonio in the army. But...that had happened, was it really possible for me to go? "No one would take me," I argued.

Feliciano sighed. "Why not? You got good grades in high school, you're smart, and you were involved in things like orchestra and fútball. Besides, there's no harm in trying, right?"

My heart was racing, and I was nearly tingling in excitement. This could work...It might actually work… But I shouldn't get my hopes up. "What will I do until then?" I asked, my voice lowering to a whisper.

Feli placed a hand on my shoulder. "Things that you like to do! Play your viola, cook like there's no tomorrow, spend time with Francis and Gilbert, write Antonio, just do something fun for a change! You'll make yourself happier!"

"And if the schools don't accept me?" My voice was barely audible this time.

"They will. I know they will."

I took a deep breath and undid my seatbelt. "Alright, idiota. You've convinced me for now. I'll be back." I was a little nervous as I opened the car door and made my way inside the building from hell. But at the same time, I felt a smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth and my steps grew purposeful as I yanked the door open, my fingers tingling in excitement.

Lili was at the register today, and looked up when she heard me come in. "Lovino? Oh my gosh, are you okay? You look awful!"

I blinked for a second, before remembering how pale I had looked when I checked the mirror earlier. "Well thanks Lili," I said sarcastically. "I'm fucking sick, remember?"

She smiled apologetically. "Right. I'm sorry. You know, Sam was complaining to Jensen, saying that you were probably ditching. I knew you were actually sick though."

I frowned. "That prick said that?"

"Shhh! Not so loud…"

"Where is that son of a bitch? I am so fucking done with him!" The few people in the dining area looked up worriedly, and Lili was vainly attempting to calm me down. Look, since I'm leaving this god-forsaken place, I might as well make a scene.

Just then, Jensen appeared out of nowhere like he always did, and his eyes widened as he looked at me. "Lovino?"

"That's right, stronzo. I came here to tell you that I'm finished with this damn place and all the bastards who work here-" I paused and gestured to Lili. "-except her. Don't shed any tears, because I sure as hell will not. Ciao bastards!"

Jensen's jaw was literally on the floor, his ears bright red from embarrassment. I felt my eyes gleam; I was having too much fun with this. Just then, Sam stuck his head out of the kitchen and gaped at me. I smirked _. That was the wrong choice, asshat._ Before anyone could stop me, I punched the bastard right in the nose and walked out dusting my hands off.

Thanks to Feli and his crazy driving skills, we were far away before anyone could react. "You really punched that Sam guy?" My brother asked with wide eyes.

"He had it coming," I retorted with an evil smirk.

"And you really cussed out your boss?"

"Yep. And I don't regret it one bit."

He snuck a glance at me. "And how do you feel?"

"Better than I have in a while."

He smiled. "Ve~! That's fantastico!" He paused. "Do you think we're going to get in trouble for this?"

"Nah, Jensen should have expected me to pull some shit like that."

"Then I'm happy, Fratello. And just you wait! Our fun isn't over yet!"

The universe must have been smiling upon us or something, for we managed to not hit anything on our way to our next destination. "Bowling?" I questioned. "I haven't done that since high school."

"Ve~! Remember back when it was everyone's favorite pastime?" Feli asked as we entered the building. "It was so fun!"

I smiled a little. "Yeah, it kinda was."

"LOVINO!"

I froze, barely able to locate the source of the voices before two human-shaped bullets hit me in the gut, causing me to fall over. "Ow! Get off me bastards!" I ordered, pulling at Francis' hair and kicking Gilbert. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

They smiled at me. "You're alive, obviously!" The French one said. "We've been trying to get a hold of you!"

"Yes, yes. I'm alive, dumbass. But I won't be if you don't get off."

They finally complied, and Gilbert offered me his hand to help me get back on my feet. "How did you know we would be here, creepy bastards?" I demanded, crossing my arms.

"Kesesese! Because the awesome me talked to Feli of course!"

I glanced at my brother, who smiled before skipping off to hug Ludwig. Wait...the potato was here too?! He wasn't the only one, I noticed. Elizabeta and even Lukas was present, and waved to me.

"Why are all these people here?" I questioned, the tone in my voice softening.

Francis put an arm on my shoulder. "Because we missed you, mon ami."

* * *

For the first time in a while, I was happy. I was actually laughing as I drove Feli and I home that night. "Six gutterballs in a row!" I sputtered with an amused shake of my head. "I swear Feliciano Vargas, you suck even more than I do!"

"Ve~! It was fun though!" My brother giggled, then blinked at me. "Are you happy?"

I smiled a little and reached over to ruffle his hair. "Happier than I've been in a while. Thanks fratellino."

"Will you be okay when I go back to school?"

"I think so," I nodded. "The bastards made me promise to stay in contact with them or they would get a fucking key to the house from Nonno."

"Keep in touch with me too, okay?" He asked softly.

"Sure thing."

The rest of the car ride was peaceful, and I couldn't help but feel a little...hopeful. _I'll be okay,_ I thought. _I'll make it._

"F-fratello?" I blinked and glanced at my brother, who was staring up ahead with wide eyes. "Why is there a police car in front of our house?"

 _ **A/N: And yes, I really did leave you with a cliffhanger. That's just how evil I am.**_

 _ **I am so surprised I made it through the past week. The first week back from break and the teachers are already burying us in crap. I had three projects due in one week! Who even assigns projects in a math class anyway..?**_

 _ **Anywho! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! If you did, grace my in a lovely little review, or a follow or a favorite- because I honestly love hearing from you awesome people! It makes my dark life a little brighter.**_

 _ **Thanks!**_

 _ **altera vita mea**_


	16. Chapter 16

_Loving a Stranger_

 _Chapter sixteen: Family Counsel_

Sure enough, there was a cop car parked right in front of our house, my headlights illuminating the words 'police' written on the sides of the car.

"Shit!" I exclaimed, pressing on the gas petal to get down the road faster. Had Jensen actually gotten me in trouble? I mean, I had only punched that douche Sam: that wasn't a big deal, right?

Do you think something happened to Nonno?" Feli whimpered.

My swearing and my speeding rapidly increased until we finally reached our house, and the two of us nearly flew out of the car. "Alright. Someone better tell me what the fuck is going on!" I demanded, almost breaking down the door.

Feliciano was right behind me. "Ve~ What happened?"

There were two officers in the room: one was pacing back and forth in the living room while the other was sitting next to a distressed looking Nonno, apparently asking him questions. All three of them jerked their heads up at our intrusion, caution in the strangers' eyes while a look of relief graced our grandfather's. "Lovino!" He cried, and for the second time that day I was borderline attacked by a lethal, bone-crushing hug.

Feli and I glanced at each other in confusion, and I awkwardly tried to get Nonno off me. "Hey! What are you doing?" I demanded.

"What are _you_ trying to do, give this poor old man a heart attack?" He responded, pulling away slightly to look into my eyes, and I was surprised to see that his were red from tears. It made him look older in an almost scary way. "For days you haven't been yourself, and then all of a sudden you disappear without a hint as to what happened. Can you imagine how worried I was?"

Well, now that I actually thought about it, I could see why that would be alarming. "Oops..."

"Oops?! I've been on the verge of panicking, wondering if my eldest grandson was at the bottom of a river or hanging dead somewhere, and all you have to say is oops?!"

Fortunately, Feli was better at dealing with crazy emotional humans- he had gotten a lot of practice dealing with me. "It was my fault Nonno," he said, hugging our grandfather tightly. "I was so eager to get Lovino out for a change and it didn't even occur to me that you would get here before us...ve~ Mi dispiace."

It was then Nonno realized that my younger sibling was in the living room instead of his college, and he gave him an odd look. "Feliciano? Why are you-"

One of the officers gestured to me. "I take it that this is your missing grandson?"

"Sí, this is Lovino."

"Right. Young man, do you mind if we ask you a few questions?"

"Uh..." I stuttered, not really fond of the idea.

"Great. Have a seat."

It took a while, but with Feliciano's and my combined efforts- Nonno was a far cry from help- we managed to convince the police officers that we were somewhat normal, and they eventually left us alone so we could take a fucking breather. "I'll get some gelato," Nonno said the second the door closed, hopping up and scrambling to the kitchen with Feli right behind him. When they came back my brother handed me a bowl and all three of us curled up on the couch, me sandwiched between the other members of the family.

"Care to explain a few things?" Nonno questioned with a raise of an eyebrow.

Feli nodded. "Ve~ I decided to come home for a couple days because I knew Fratellone needed me. La famiglia prima di tutto, sí?" I smiled at him.

"Of course," Nonno nodded too, a smile pulling on his mouth. "I'm glad you boys are close like this... I wasn't like that with my siblings," he chuckled. "How are you doing, Lovino?"

I inhaled a huge spoonful of gelato, regretting it when a painful brain freeze took over for a few seconds. "I think I'm going to be okay." Feli patted my shoulder, silently encouraging me to be more open. I eyed him, took a deep breath, and spilled what had been bothering me. I kept my eyes glued to my bowl, terrified of what Nonno would think and unwilling to meet his gaze. I didn't explain anything that I didn't have to, and I stayed silent about the whole cutting issue- I didn't want anyone besides my brother knowing that kind of information. When I finished, none of us were dry-eyed and we were all sniffling pitifully.

"I'm so sorry," Nonno whispered. "If I had known I would have-"

"Don't," I interrupted. "Don't beat yourself up over what happened in the past. Mio Dio, I've done it and it just makes life shitty for everyone."

Nonno nodded, wiping at his eyes as a small smile played on his lips. "If it makes you feel any better," he said slowly. "Something did come in the mail for you."

My heart skipped a beat and I felt my pupils dilate, watching as he pulled an envelope out of his jacket in a playfully slow manner. "This Antonio fellow sure does write to you a lot," he observed as he glanced it over.

"Enough of this! Give me the damn letter!" I demanded, reaching for it as Nonno held it out of my reach with a teasing smile on his face.

"Uh uh! Patience, mio nipote. First things first: have a met this lover of yours?"

I fell back into my seat with a crimson face, loudly insisting that he sure as hell was not my lover, while Feliciano nodded eagerly. "Ve~ You did Nonno! He graduated with Lovino."

"Really? What did he look like?"

I muttered a few swears under my breath, scowling as I finished my dessert.

"Now, now Lovino. If you want your so-not-a-love-letter, all you have to do is describe this Antonio fellow to me."

I glared at him. "He's close friends with Gilbert and Francis."

"Uh huh... They have a lot of friends, you know."

"Um...he's Spanish, tanned..." _With an amazing body..._ A blush crept onto my face at the betrayal of my own mind. "...brown hair, really bright green eyes. You can't miss them. He's always walking around with that damn smile on his face..." _Those gorgeous emerald green eyes and that prefect smile of his... Oh my god what the fuck am I thinking?!_

Luckily, Nonno put an end to my misery...sort of. "Ohhhhhh! I know who you're talking about! The guy who was all over you during the dinner afterwards!"

I jerked my head up. "Nonononono, not him."

"Ve~ that's Tonio!"

"Feliciano, I swear-"

"Aw! Lovino is all red!" Nonno gushed like a stupid high school girl. "Don't worry, I liked him."

I stared at him like he had suddenly grown a pair of horns. "What the fuck? Are you sure? Because I remember you chasing him away and saying something that actually scared him so bad he avoided me for a while. I'm pretty sure he pissed his pants."

I chuckled slightly at the memory, remembering that night with a shake of my head.

"Don't sit so close to me, stupid bastard!" I had hissed, attempting to push his chair away with my foot.

He had laughed. "Aw Lovi! But I won't be able to see mi tomate every day anymore! I want to be close to you while I can!"

"Fucking bastard, don't call me that! And knowing you, you'll be stalking me like the creep you are so that I'll still have see your annoying face every day."

"But Lovvvviiii!"

"No! And cut it out, my grandfather's watching."

He had sighed in momentary defeat, and turned to talk to his friends, and pick at his food while I enjoyed the peace. It was short lived; however. "Hey Lovi? Close your eyes and open your mouth."

I had jerked my head around so quickly I nearly got whiplash. "Whaaa?! That sounds bad in a lot of ways, pervert!"

He had stuck out his lower lip, those eyes of his silently begging in his perfected puppy dog look. "Don't you trust me?" He had asked. "I'm not Francis."

"What was that?" Asked a certain Frenchman from his seat, while we had ignored him.

I had rolled my eyes, closing them to avoid looking at Antonio any longer, leaving my mouth open slightly. Something had touched my lips, and I jumped at first before I recognized what it was and practically inhaled it.

"Ah! Lovi, you nearly bit my finger off!" Antonio had complained while I chewed on the tomato slice.

I had shrugged carelessly, opening my eyes to glare at him. "If I had been able to see what I was doing, maybe I wouldn't have, bastard."

He had whined a little, then seemed fixated on the corner of my lip. "I...Lovi, you got tomato juice on your face..." Before I could react, he had leaned forward and kissed the spot on my face, the corner of his lips lightly brushing the corner of mine, pulling away before I could punch him.

I had been shocked. "What the hell?!" I'd snapped, glaring at him murderously.

He had flinched. "I'm sorry... You just looked so adorable..." His eyes had flicked to something behind me, and he hastily stood up with wide eyes. "I'll be back," he'd murmured, walking in the direction of the restroom.

"Hopefully not," I'd turned back around and noticed that Nonno was getting up too with _that_ look on his face.

I had smirked. _This will be good._

The two of them ended up coming back a few minutes later, my grandfather looking smug while Antonio was paler than Gilbert. He had barely looked at me as he mumbled an apology, then turned to talk to his friends.

I didn't know why, but it had bothered me. "Oye, bastardo de tomate!" I had hissed in Spanish after a few minutes, knowing that he was powerless to ignore me, particularly when I was speaking his native language.

He had winced, then looked at me worriedly, sneaking paranoid glances at my grandfather. "Sí?"

"What did he tell you?" I questioned with a curious raise of my eyebrow.

"No se. I think he might have been threatening me or cussing me out in Italian- I think I recognized a few words that you have said before... I heard something about a rusty bread knife and... castration?" He had shivered, while I laughed at him.

"Idiota. Maybe you shouldn't act so stupid when my grandfather is around."

"He said I needed to stop bothering you, I think..." He'd murmured uncertainly, looking so sad I almost felt bad for him.

"You don't bother me, bastard."

"Really?" Antonio's eyes had lit up and danced while a smile played on his lips.

Fuck, I had said that out loud. I had blushed and glanced at my plate. "I mean...you do, dammit. But I'd rather be annoyed by you than some other bastards around here..."

"I did like him," Nonno was now saying. "I just didn't think you liked him."

"Because I don't!" I sputtered. "And what the hell does that have to do with anything anyway?"

"I didn't want him toying with you. I've seen it happen before: as much as I love him I've watched the same thing happen with Gilbert. Don't even get me started on Francis." Nonno leaned foreword and rested his elbows on his knees. "They'll continue pursuing the hard-to-get because it's like a challenge for them, and when they have what they were after they move on and leave a broken heart behind them."

My eyes narrowed as I gripped my empty bowl. Was that all I was to the Tomato Bastard: a fucking game?

"But I liked what I saw and what I heard with this one. And I noticed the way he looks at you, Lovino. Its like he absolutely adores you."

Nonno and Feli had finally left me alone in favor of getting some sleep, and I was able to read Antonio's letter in peace- somewhat. But I was left with my thoughts, and they were nearly as dangerous. On one hand, I acknowledged the fact that Antonio was a total bastard and an idiot on top of that. He was annoying as hell and didn't understand the concept of personal space. He was no good(there was a reason why he was apart of the Bad Touch Trio after all) and I was only playing with fire if I got close to him.

Yet, on the other hand he was undeniably gorgeous and way too sweet for his own good. He treated me better than I deserved, and when I was with him things just felt...right. As if this was the way it was supposed to be, and I couldn't help but feel content when he was there.

To make matters worse, my emotions were strewn all along both sides of this problem.

I sighed and shook my head, swearing at myself for what I was about to do as I grabbed a pen. "Oi, Tomato Bastard..."

 _ **A/N: Here's Chapter 16 for you lovelies! Wow...It's sixteen already? That's kinda crazy….**_

 _ **Oh, and quick shout out to Errui for pointing out my grammar mistake XD No seriously, I hate making even minor mistakes so I am grateful to you for alerting me. I do my own editing, so eh, it happens...**_

 _ **And OH MY! Check it out! I'm almost at 50 reviews! *Runs laps around my room screaming like the fangirl I am* I do realize that it might not seem like much in comparison to some other freaking amazing stories out there, but this story is my baby and I guess I'm like that one mom who takes way too much pride in her kid, even with said kid really didn't do anything.**_

 _ **But I have you awesome people to thank for all this! Because if it wasn't for your support I would have bailed long time ago! So I thank you all so very much!**_

 _ **Stay awesome guys!**_

 _ **altera vita mea**_


	17. Chapter 17

_Loving a Stranger_

 _Chapter seventeen: That Fine Line_

The month was November, and I was doing a whole lot better than I had the previous month. Feliciano had gone back to school of course, but we stayed in close contact. In fact, I don't think a day went by without us calling or texting each other as we went over the day's events. We had suddenly grown closer than we had been in a couple years, and this was a change I knew I appreciated.

Nonno had made a huge effort to reach out to me as well; he was always planning some crazy activity for the two of us that usually ended up in disaster- like when he tried to take me to one of those American football games and it suddenly started raining fucking cats and dogs. He even had me play my viola for him a couple times, and he claimed it was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. Ass kisser.

I had made the mistake of mentioning the whole college thing in one of my letters to Antonio- I still can't believe I actually wrote the bastard to begin with- and _mio dio_ the man wouldn't let it go. He kept on pestering me about it until I finally sent in some applications just so he would shut up: because if I got another letter telling me that I deserved to go live my dreams or something cheesy like that I was going to kill someone. Nonno was no help and constantly insisted that I could go anywhere and he would figure out all the financial crap. I had my fingers crossed for the application I sent to the Florence Culinary Art School; can you imagine how amazing it would be to go back to Italy for college? But it wasn't like I was getting my hopes up or anything! Like hell they would want me.

Francis and Gilbert hardly let me out of their sight, but I think I had gotten to the point where I didn't care. They were still bastards, but I realized that they were no longer doing this thing for Antonio: they actually cared about my well being. And, as stupid as they were, they could be cool when they wanted to be.

I stayed in contact with Ms. Carriedo- or Mammá Josefa as she all but forced me to call her. Gilbert, Francis, and I would often crash at her place to hang out, to keep her company, and in all honesty, to enjoy some of her phenomenal cooking. That's what we had been doing today, except that evil Spanish woman had thrown me in the kitchen in her place, telling me that she had heard so many wonderful things about my abilities that she wanted me to try something out.

"But I have no idea how to cook Spanish food!" I protested, glancing around the unfamiliar kitchen.

"Well, you have to learn sometime," she laughed with a playful wink.

"Why the hell would I have to-" I trailed off as the subliminal meaning began to sink in, and my eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets while Mammá Josefa and Gilbert cracked up(if you must know, Francis had ran off for another fake date with Arthur). "W-where did you get something like that from?" I sputtered.

Gilbert's eyes gleamed evilly. "You should learn how to make wurst from the awesome me so you'll be ready when Feli's family comes to visit."

I glared at him. "I'm drawing the line at wurst, bastard."

I don't know what was the harder thing: cooking foreign food or cooking in a foreign kitchen. The issue with the food itself was that my actions were sloppy and lacked passion- I was trying, but I had no fucking clue what I was doing. The problem with the kitchen was I didn't know where anything was kept and had to keep calling for Mammá Josefa over my shoulder. In result, I was also fatally clumsy.

"CHIGI!" I yelped, followed by a loud crash as glass shattered all over the floor.

Gilbert's eyes widened as a smirk grew on his face. "Kesesese! You're so dead! And is that tomato all over your shirt?"

 _"Che Cazzo,"_ I growled, taking in my dripping shirt. "Why the hell does this always happen to me?"

Mamma Josefa ran in from the other room. "Oh baby, are you alright?" She murmured. "Don't worry, I'll get this cleaned up. Gil, take him to get a clean shirt from Antonio's room."

Being extremely careful about our foot-placement, the albino led me to our destination, finding this whole thing way too amusing. "If you don't stop laughing, I'm going to shove a glass shard up your ass," I grumbled as he looked through one of the drawers. He didn't listen to me, so I crossed my arms and glanced around the room.

Like the occupant of the room, it was bright and sunlight poured in from the windows to give it a warm feeling. It was obvious that Mamma Josefa kept the place tidy, for there wasn't a speck of dust in sight and everything was in order. Unlike Gilbert's room- which was decked out in stupid posters from his favorite bands and video games- Antonio had put up amazing photos and paintings; most of them were of the ocean. _Oh, that's right. He did tell me that he had always been fascinated by the sea,_ I thought as I recognized one of the paintings as the one Feli had made for a birthday present last year.

There were also a whole bunch of photos of his friends on the walls: I almost immediately saw that he had a picture identical to the one he had given me, as well as one of him and a group of about six children I have never seen before, there was a selfie that Gilbert had taken, his red eyes gleaming from behind a black mask, with Antonio and Francis in the background wearing the same attire, identical smirks, and clutching tomatoes. That must have been during their infamous tomato-assault on Roderich. The last picture I noticed was one we had taken on the last day of school- because Francis had insisted that we needed a picture of the seniors in our large web of friends/acquaintances for memory's sake.

"Hey! Lovino? Snap out of it and pay attention to the awesome me!"

I blinked and turned to Gilbert, barely able to catch the shirt he had flung at my face. "You could at least warn me next time, stupid bastard," I muttered.

"I'm pretty sure I just did."

I rolled my eyes and pushed him out of the room, not believing that I would be safe changing my shirt with a pervert looking on, girlfriend or no girlfriend. "Whatever." After I got him out, I pulled off my ruined shirt with annoyance at the deja vu as I wiggled into Antonio's slightly larger shirt. It was one he wore often, colored green to match his eyes with the inscription "GARDENING is cheaper than therapy and you get tomatoes". Can you believe how cheesy this guy is? _But damn this thing smells really nice,_ I noted, lifting the collar to my nose to get another whiff. It smelled slightly like fabric softener, strongly like his cologne, and there was just a hint of tomato.

"AHA! I NEVER THOUGHT I WOULD LIVE TO SEE SUCH A GLORIOUS DAY!"

I borderline screamed as the door suddenly flew open, revealing a certain pony-tailed Frenchman holding up his phone as he clicked away joyously. "What the fuck?!" I shouted at him, pointing a finger in accusation. "What the hell is wrong with you?! Haven't you heard of knocking, you stupid perverted _stronzo!"_

Francis lowered his phone with a smirk on his face. "Ah, _mon ami!_ Antonio will be elated when I mail these to him!" He cheered as if he hadn't even heard me.

I pushed past him and marched back to the kitchen, where Mamma Josefa had thankfully taken over with Gilbert as her unwilling assistant. "So, aren't you supposed to be with your fake boyfriend, Snail?" I griped as I sat down.

"Funny story actually. Arthur isn't exactly my fake boyfriend anymore."

"Why?" Gilbert asked with a smirk. "Did you have a fake breakup- ow!" Mamma Josefa suddenly hit his arm with a dishrag, telling him to get back to work while Francis made a face.

 _"Non._ What if I were to tell you he's more like my real boyfriend now?"

"Whaaaaa?!" All three of us gaped like fish out of the water, unable to comprehend the words that had just left the French's mouth. "How?!" Gilbert sputtered. "I mean, that's awesome. But how?"

"No shit," I muttered. "Last time I checked, the two of you were literally at each other's throats and throwing things across the room."

"Love works in mysterious ways," Francis shrugged, sighing in contentment. "It sometimes sneaks up on you and grabs you when you don't expect it to, filling you with unexplainable affections toward the least likely person. Thus the beginning of Arthur and my relationship. We were in the middle of our fake date when I realized that we were already going through the motions of an actual relationship, and it suddenly dawned on me: if we could make a fake amour work, than what could possibly be so difficult about an actual one? I wanted to try, so I talked to Arthur about it."

"And he agreed?" Gilbert asked.

 _"Oui!"_

My eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, a slightly troubled frown on my face. Was there really that thin of a line between hate and love? If so, where the hell was I on that spectrum? I had to ask someone about it- but not these idiotic bastards. They would only give me some biased trash. No, I needed to talk to someone who would understand, who had experienced something similar to what I was going through with Antonio.

"I gotta go," I mumbled, making for the door, only to be intercepted by Mamma Josefa on the way out.

"Are you feeling alright, _hijo?"_ She asked worriedly. "At least stay for lunch."

I shook my head. "I can't. There's something I need to take care of." Before anyone could ask any more questions, I was out the door.

* * *

 _Of course,_ I thought as I reached the parking lot of Barnes and Noble. If I could get him to say more than five words at once, Lukas would be the perfect person to talk to. I knew him- sort of- for he had played violin during high school, and the two of us were the best in our respective instruments out of everyone in the orchestra. We would often look to each other to voice our complaints about the "bastards" and "idiots" that made up the rest of the class. the bulk of the Norwegian's insults were about Mathias, who had taken up cello in a failed attempt to impress Lukas. Though he actually did get pretty good by senior year.

Mathias was actually another reason why Lukas could potentially help me out. I had always thought that he couldn't stand the overly happy Dane and that he was in a similar boat as the one I was in- forced to be stuck with a clingy idiotic bastard who didn't understand that he wasn't wanted around. I couldn't remember Lukas ever saying a nice thing about Mathias. Yet, at the party before Antonio left, everything was put into light and the result was a surprise to nearly everyone.

I was already weirded out by those random thoughts and emotions that at times overtook me, and then Francis decided to give a whole fucking speech about the mysterious workings of love and how people who even hated each other could end up together. _Nope! This is definitely freaking me out,_ I thought, a shiver running down my spine as I opened my car door and stepped outside.

I ran into the bookstore in search of the skinny, quiet Norwegian, praying he could help me before I went completely insane. I finally found him behind a self and recommending a magic book to some lady- why the hell am I not surprised- with his back toward me. "Just wait a bit, Lovino, my break is in five minutes," he said in a soft monotone, not even turning to look at me.

My eyes widened, and the woman he had been talking to glanced at him oddly before looking at me as if to ask if I was the 'Lovino' he had addressed. I nodded slightly and pretended to browse through some random books nearby.

 _Calm down,_ I ordered myself, wiping my sweaty hands on my- Antonio's- shirt. _Just because this happened to Lukas and to Francis doesn't mean it has happened to you. Besides, you already established that you wouldn't-_

"Lovino?"

I squeaked slightly as I whirled around, finding that Lukas had somehow sneaked up behind me. "How did you know I was there a minute ago?" I questioned with a raise of an eyebrow.

He looked at me without emotion, his indigo eyes boring into me. "The trolls told me."

 _Okaaaaaay, this guy is a fucking wacko._ "Uh...I'm sure they did." _Now I see why he and Arthur got along: they both belong in the asylum!_

Lukas didn't seem to notice the weird look I was directing at him and started walking towards the Starbucks- which had more business than the actual bookstore- gesturing for me to follow him. I reluctantly did so, wondering what the hell had possessed me to seek advice from this odd man.

By the time I caught up with his long strides, he already had two mugs in hand, offering one to me as we sat down at a secluded table in the corner. Lukas took a sip of his coffee and brushed his pale blond hair out if his eyes. "So. You're here to talk about Antonio, right?" He asked softly.

I started choking- partially because I had burned my tongue off with that coffee, and also because he had managed to hit the nail right on the head. "Uh...did your...troll friends tell you that too?" I questioned, wondering if I was in the presence of a psychic. _Oh shit, what if he suddenly asked 'I bet you're wondering if I'm psychic'? That would be so fucking creepy I just might piss my pants. Dammit- I hope he didn't hear that, how embarrassing._

Lukas shook his head, and either I was totally losing it or he had the smallest hint of a smile pulling on the corner of his lips. But when I blinked it was gone. "No, I figured that out by observing you. You've been uncharacteristically quiet- and when you do talk you're not nearly as...passionate...as you are normally. You're spending a bit of time in your thoughts and you're a bit jumpy too- as if your worries are bothering you to the point that you're not even paying attention to reality-" Says the one who talks to trolls. "You're even wearing his shirt."

"I can explain that one!" I interjected. If he asks about my red face I'm going to blame it on the coffee.

"And from what I can tell, this started happening around the time of Antonio's graduation last month, right? It kinda reminds me of how I was with Mathias..."

"That's why I wanted to talk to you!" I shouted, slamming my fist on the table for emphasis- causing people a couple tables over to look at me like I was crazy.

Lukas tilted his head to the side and continue sipping his drink. "Because of Mathias? Did he do something stupid again? Because of anyone can screw up when they aren't even here he can."

I raised an eyebrow, but shook my head. "No. But both of us can agree that Mathias and Antonio are as annoying as hell and don't understand the concept of personal space, right?"

This time, I'm sure Lukas smiled in slight amusement as he nodded.

"Then how the fuck did you figure out that even though he's irritating you actually loved the bastard?" I asked.

He finished off his coffee and shrugged. "It's hard to explain. But I can tell you not to listen to anything your brain comes up with, for it will rationalize everything. Because if you are anything like I was you don't want to believe you've fallen for the stupidest person you know. What you have to do is focus on what's in here," he said as he pointed to his own chest. "You'll figure it out in time. We all do."

* * *

"A whole lot of help that turned out to be!" I grumbled out loud as I drove down the highway. "What kind of shitty love advice was that anyway? I swear Lukas has serious issues- like big time!"

My frustration had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I was feeling convicted- that if I stopped and thought over my feelings the results were far from what I wanted them to be. Whenever I saw him, heard his voice, received a letter from him, even when some random bastard brought up his name in a conversation I would grow flustered and my heart nearly gave out on me in that terrifyingly addictive "swing effect." I craved his stupid presence, and when he was away I missed him. It was way too fucking easy to get lost in his eyes, to be comforted by his smile, to melt into his touch- gah! I was seriously sounding like I was head over heels in love, and it pissed me off.

Tightening one hand on the steering wheel I reached over and turned the radio on nearly all the way in hopes that some loud music would keep all this crap out of my mind. Unfortunately, there was nothing good on the radio. Cursing, I pulled over to find something acceptable- and not the normal stuff I listened to! I was not in the mood to listen to a band Antonio had introduced me to. I finally found a CD in the glove compartment that probably belonged to Feli because I had never heard of it in my entire life.

That was when I noticed my car's engine had turned off. "Ugh, this cheap piece of shit," I muttered, gripping the keys as I turned the ignition. The car made a soft clicking sound and then…..nothing. "What the hell?" I tried again, with no less success. I hit the steering wheel, but that only resulted in me hurting my hand and swearing at the car like it was its fault that I had anger issues. I grabbed my phone out of my pocket and clicked. Dead. Just like the damn car. My eyelid twitched irritably.

"FUCK!" I screamed, opening the car door. I stepped out, delivered a swift kick to the tire- again bad idea- and swore even louder as I hopped on one foot over to the hood, nearly breaking something- one of my bones and not a part of the car- as I jerked it open. Obviously, I had no fucking idea what was wrong with the thing, but it seemed like everyone who ever had car issues just opened the hood and sat there staring at it stupidly like it was going to fix itself. So I stood there like an idiot until I realized that it was November and I was standing in the cold with a simple cotton t-shirt on.

 _Way to go, Lovino!_ I cheered sarcastically as I sunk into the car. "I don't think this could get any worse."

Apparently, the universe loved proving me wrong, for there was a knock on the window. I was getting ready to answer the curious cop when I looked up and saw that much to my horror the person standing outside my car was that potato Ludwig. "Oh hell no!" I shouted. He raised an eyebrow and gestured for me to open the door. "Fuck off!"

But he was faster than me, and had the door open before I could lock it. "I thought I recognized the car," he said. "What happened?"

"None of your damn business, Potato Bastard!" I hissed, slapping at him. "Maybe I wanted to take a siesta or something."

"On the side of the highway?"

"Don't fucking judge me, _stronzo."_

His patience was wearing thin, for he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Did you call a tow truck?"

"I would if I could, but my phone is dead."

He nodded. "Alright, we're getting somewhere. Hop into the other seat, I'll see what I can do. In the meantime-" he fished into his pocket and tossed his cell phone at me.

I glared at him. "Who the hell told you to call the shots, huh? I don't need your help so piss off!" And with that, I threw the phone back at him.

That was when he lost it. "I'm just trying to help!" he shouted, one vein nearly popping out of his forehead. "But that's fine! Since you obviously have everything under control I'll just leave! _Guten Tag!"_

I flipped him off and he rolled his eyes as he marched back to his car. I turned back and tried to start the car again- and failed. I sighed. "I can't believe this shit." With that, I stepped out of the car again.

"Hey! Potato Bastard!"

Ludwig rolled down his window and glared at me. "What do you want?"

I shrugged in exasperation. "I don't really have a lot of options, so there really isn't a point in asking, is there?"

"That's probably the closest thing I'll get to please," he muttered as he got out of his car and walked over to mine, handing me his phone again as he slipped into the front seat. I googled a tow truck and dialed the number as I got into the passenger seat, explaining the situation to the person who picked up while eyeing the German next to me, who merely fiddled with the car as he nodded to himself.

After I hung up he said, "Starter motor."

"Which means?" I asked with a raise of an eyebrow.

"Simple. We fix it."

"Sounds like work," I complained. "And did you just say 'we'?"

"Ja. I know how to fix it, my Brother and I have been around cars since we were young. I can help you for free, but you're going to have to put forth some effort too."

"Fuck."

* * *

 **Translations:**

 _Mio dio(Italian)-_ My God

 _Che Cazzo(Italian)-_ What the fuck

 _Stronzo(Italian)-_ Asshole

 _Mon ami(French)-_ My friend

 _Non(French)-_ No

 _Oui(French)-_ Yes

 _Hijo(Spanish)-_ Son

 _Guten Tag(German)-_ Good day


	18. Chapter 18

_Loving a Stranger_

 _Chapter eighteen: When I Realize what Everyone Else Already Knew_

That was the longest half an hour of my life- awkwardly sitting in the passenger seat of my brother's boyfriend's car, waiting for the tow truck guy to get his slow ass over there. Somehow, I had been talked into working on my car with that Potato, who said we would work on it the first Saturday he had free. Which wouldn't be next Saturday, because Feli was going to be home for Thanksgiving and the two of them were going out. Oh, and not the one after either because his family would be out of town. I was starting to wonder if saving all this money was even worth it- I'd have to be paying Francis or Gilbert in gas money for the next two weeks anyway! Dio mio, I always managed to get myself into these shitty situations. Damn my bad luck!

The tow truck finally arrived and Ludwig directed it to his house- his garage was bigger and all his stuff was there, he argued. I begrudgingly agreed and then ignored him as he drove me home. "Uh...I'll see you Thursday…" Ludwig said awkwardly as I jumped out of the car like it was on fire.

"Don't sound so happy about it," I retorted. "Caio, stupid potato bastard." He drove away and I turned toward the house, pulling out my keys.

"I guess I'll get the mail," I muttered, yanking open the mailbox and gathering the random envelopes and advertisements. I looked through them without interest as I unlocked the front door and slipped inside. Bills….junk….more bills….something for Nonno….and a letter for Feli. There was nothing for me: absolutely nothing. Normally, I would be fine with that, but I was pretty damn sure I was supposed to be expecting a letter from Antonio today.

I frowned as I dropped all the mail on the coffee table and retreated to my room to charge my phone. _Let's see; I mailed the bastard...ten days ago._ It usually took about three to get over to him, one or that the most two days for him to write back, and another three for his letter to arrive- so eight days max. I stopped, the blood draining from my face. "I should have gotten a letter two fucking days ago," I muttered. He was never late. Ever. Even back when I was refusing to respond to his letters he sent them on time.

Heart pounding, I ran over to the house phone and dialed Francis' number. " _Bonjour, this is Francis Bonnefoy? What can I do to you?"_ Something told me he winked every single time he answered his phone like that.

"Francis, stop being such a goddamn pervert! It's Lovino."

" _Lovino? What's wrong mon ami? You sound half panicked."_

I nervously ran my hand through my hair. "I...uh, have you gotten a letter from Antonio recently?"

I could _hear_ the amused smile on his face. " _Oui, I received one yesterday to be exact. Why?"_

I was about to answer that I honestly had no idea why, but Gilbert's loud voice suddenly could be heard in the background. " _Kesesesese! What's going on?"_

" _Lovino's wondering about a letter."_

" _What? Did Toni forget to write you?"_

I scowled indignantly. "Of course he didn't forget! I just haven't gotten it yet." Just the thought of him actually forgetting to write me made me feel queasy, He wouldn't do that...right?

" _Would you care if he did forget?"_ Gilbert was pressing, somehow having taken the phone away from his friend.

"H-he wouldn't forget," I said, slightly unsure of myself now.

" _That wasn't my question!"_ He sang.

I thought I could hear Francis mutter a warning in the background, but I wasn't sure. My knees were starting to shake shamefully and I had to grip the counter to keep from falling. "Dammit Gilbert! Shut the fuck up!" I swore. "He wouldn't! He promised he wouldn't!"

" _Ja, but would you care?"_

"..."

" _Lovino?"_

"Y-yes," I whispered, taking several deep breaths to try to calm myself down. It was too late for that, because tears were already starting to cloud my eyes. _How dare that bastard make me doubt like that! I'm going to kill him the next time I-_

" _Lovino? Are you okay?"_ A French accent came from over the phone.

I sniffled. "I-I think so...Tell Gilbert to go fuck himself."

" _Are you crying? I told that idiot not to go too far…"_

"I'm n-not crying, stupid bastard."

" _Mon ami, it's okay. We know you love Antonio."_

"I don't-" I stopped. I did. I fucking did. Why else would I get so hysterical just thinking that he might have overlooked me? How else could a single person have this large of an effect on me: the person who swore not to give a shit about people? Damn, I did love him...I have for a while. "I...hate you so much…"

Gilbert was chuckling in the background. " _Tell him Toni's letter is under his doormat."_

I froze. "Wait...you fucking-"

" _Kesesesese! Gotta go! Byeeeeeee!"_

The line went dead, and I barely restrained from throwing the phone into the wall as I ran to the door and jerked it open, tossing the doormat out of the way. Sure enough, there was a letter written in that familiar handwriting addressed to me. I shook my head as I picked it up, brushing two-days worth of dirt from the previously white envelope. I hated Gilbert and Francis for being the nosy bastards that they are; who they hell even does that? I ripped open the envelope and pulled out the letter, reading it as I kicked the door closed behind me.

* * *

I don't know how, but our house always ended up being the go-to place for holidays. It probably had something to do with the fact that Feli and Nonno were expert hosts and seriously knew how to entertain people- usually with some over-the-top dramatic stories and amazing Italian cuisine.

Thanksgiving was unfortunately no different. Almost everyone was crammed into my house once again as if they had no lives of their own. Nonno made the best of it though; coming up with the rule that everyone who came must bring at least some kind of food from their country. That would have been fine if that didn't mean the Beilschmidts brought a big ass plate of wurst. Every. Fucking. Year.

"YES!" Alfred shouted. "TOUCHDOWN! DRUUUUHOOOO!"

"I'll never understand why you call it football," Arthur was muttering. "You don't even use your feet in the sport."

"Uh, yeah you do! There's punting and kickoffs! Duh!"

"Which are not even the main points of the game."

"Ve~ I think our fútball makes more sense," Feli added.

"Yeah, whatever. This is still epic!" Alfred insisted.

I shook my head from my place next to my brother. It was the American's fault we hadn't eaten yet, for he had been the one who had forgotten to cook his turkey when he was supposed to, and ended up bringing here for Nonno to deal with. That, and Mamma Josefa still wasn't present. "Where the hell is that woman?" I wondered aloud.

No one answered me and acted as though they were far too occupied with the stupid football game. Alfred was bouncing up and down on the smaller couch while Gilbert and Elizabeta were snuggling on the other end. Francis had grabbed Arthur and somewhat forced him into the love seat, where the irritable Brit rooted for the team Alfred was against simply to spite him. Bella, Kiku, Ludwig, Feli, and I were on the larger couch and all but fought for space; I would practically stretch out, drape my legs over my brother and stick my foot in Ludwig's face until the German's small amount of patience grew thin and he threw my ass onto the floor. I think Lars was in the kitchen with Nonno and Mr. Beilschmidt- smart man- and Matthew had stayed home with his family.

"Alright, I know Alfred is the only one who's actually paying attention to the game," I finally growled out. "So will one of you answer my damn question?"

Kiku blinked at me, apparently too polite to ignore me like the others were doing. "What question, Lovino-san?"

"I was wondering where Mamma- er- Ms. Carriedo is."

"Didn't we already tell you?" Gilbert asked. "She went to pick up her boyfriend, San Francisco whatever his last name is."

"Those two are so cute," Francis added.

I scoffed. "João and Antonio seem to disagree," I muttered, my face growing warm as I mentioned the latter. I hadn't told anyone about my newly discovered feelings, I hadn't even said the three terrible words out loud yet. I was hoping that if I didn't voice them, they would go back to were all bad ideas and emotions go- to the depths of hell.

"Shut up, will you guys?" Alfred pouted. "I'm trying to watch here!"

"Kiss my ass, Mr. President."

Feli shifted closer to Ludwig and checked his phone, a soft smile on his face as he did so. If I didn't know better, I would say he had been acting weird the entire day. In fact- all of them were!

"Hey, Lovino?" A deep voice called.

I glanced behind me to see Lars had stuck his head out of the kitchen, his gravity-defying hair sticking straight into the air as usual. "Your grandfather wanted to talk to you."

I nodded and untangled myself from the couch, limping a little as my right foot had decided to fall asleep on me. "Yeah, Nonno?" I asked as I hobbled into the kitchen, shaking my leg out with all the grace I could muster.

My grandfather looked up from the pot he was attending, flashing me a bright smile. "Lovino, could you grab me a few tomatoes from your garden?"

I groaned. "Why can't Lars do it?" I complained.

"Because I'm busy."

"And because you would kill anyone who stepped foot in your territory," Nonno reminded me. "I learned that the hard way."

"You're damn right about that," I nodded with a smirk and marched into the backyard. It was cold, and I shivered slightly as I ran to the small greenhouse Nonno had given me the first year we moved here. It wasn't big, but it gave me yearlong tomatoes, and that was all I needed. Once I was safe in the warmth of the tomato haven, I began inspecting my plants in search for the best ones to use. Damn, I never got over how amazing this place was, how it smelt, how happy and content I was to sit there and care for my favorite fruit for hours and hours. I located a perfect red tomato and picked it expertly, bringing to my face as I inhaled its scent. I was seriously tempted to take a bite out of it right then and there, but Nonno was waiting for me.

…

 _On second thought, screw it!_ And with that, I took a huge bite, juice dribbling down my chin like it did every single time.

"I hope you're planning on sharing, mi tomate."

My body suddenly went rigid, and I dropped the tomato on the ground, the fruit bouncing and dirtying my shoe. But I didn't care. Because only one person was stupid enough to call me their fucking tomato. I spun around and made contact with a pair of dancing green eyes.

"Antonio?"

His eyes sparkled. "Sí, they decided to let my sector home for the holiday before they deploy us."

I quickly got over my shock and hugged him, wrapping my arms around his neck. "And you didn't tell me, bastard?" I realized too late that I had initiated physical contact, but Antonio already had his arms around my waist, pulling me even closer to him.

"I wanted to surprise you," he murmured as he nuzzled into my neck, his cold nose slightly tickling my skin. "I'm amazed no one slipped up and told you."

"I think they enjoy keeping secrets from me," I complained. "And you made me waste a perfectly good tomato."

"Lo siento Lovi. You looked so adorable, I couldn't help it." He set me down and smiled, affectionately brushing hair out of my eyes as I blinked at him. "Te amo," he whispered.

 _Shit...last time he had said that was before I..._ It felt as though the greenhouse's temperature had suddenly reached 200 degrees: I could feel the heat on my face and down my neck and everywhere he touched me seemed to burn. Air was having a hard time getting to my lungs and I'm pretty sure I looked like a gaping fish while my heart started pounding. I had to grab onto his forearms because my knees were shaking so bad. Damn, this is worse than the other times...I guess then I wasn't expecting myself to say anything back...

"Lovi? What's wrong?" Antonio's eyes were wide as his strong arms steadied my wobbling body.

 _Say it, something inside me ordered. Fucking say it._ "A-An-tonio... I-I..." I tore my eyes away from his and stared at the tomato juice on my shoes instead.

"Yes?"

"I...uh...dammit..." I took a few deep breaths, inhaling the scent of tomatoes and Antonio's cologne as I leaned into his chest, listening to his heart. "T-ti amo," I whispered in a voice that was barely even audible, my face flushed as I closed my eyes in embarrassment.

I heard his heart beat faster and felt his arms tighten around me. "¿Q-qué? Did I hear you right?" I dared to look back at him, noticing how wide his bright eyes had grown and the slight flush of his tan cheeks, his mouth slightly open.

I couldn't help but smile. "I think you did."

Aside from his eyebrows shooting up in surprise, he didn't move, almost as if he thought I would suddenly start laughing and say something like, "Ha! You really thought I would love a bastard like you?!"

I almost wanted to do that. I never knew how to just keep my loud mouth shut. Instead, I had to bring about my downfall all the damn time.

Antonio took a shaky breath, the corners of his mouth quirking up hopefully. "R-really?"

I rolled my eyes at him. "Idiot." I'm pretty sure the warm air was messing with my head or something, because I actually kissed him. And I couldn't even get away with the "it was an accident" bullshit. No, I deliberately rose onto my tiptoes, wrapped my arms around his neck again, and brought my face to his. At first, I was infuriated with myself. Of all the stupid, hormonal, impulsive things I have ever done, this was the cherry on top.

That was, until Antonio finally reacted, tightening one arm around my waist while the other tangled into the hair dangerously close to my curl as he kissed back. That was when all the rational thoughts I still possessed suddenly vanished. Obviously, this wasn't the first time we had kissed, but back then I had either returned his affections in a begrudging manner or I had been too surprised to retaliate. This time was entirely different, and both of us could feel it.

The first kiss was short and sweet, and I was just about to start complaining that it had been too short, when I noticed a certain gleam in the Spaniard's eyes and was caught off guard when he practically attacked my lips in a deeper and more passionate one. For a few seconds, I lost all sense of direction, I was vaguely aware that my feet were no longer on the the ground, but I had no idea what was going on until I was placed on one of the wooden tables, the leaves of my tomato plants brushing against the back of my neck. I let out a short gasp, which Antonio took advantage of and slipped his tongue into my mouth. _Damn, there was no way I, Lovino Vargas, was going to be conquered so easily._ For a moment, our tongues engaged in a quick battle, but I soon gave up- I fucking let him win, okay- and let him explore his new territory.

For the record, there is this thing called air, and I've heard it's fairly important to survival. It is also a fact that it is really hard to acquire that needed air with someone's tongue in your mouth. Thankfully, Antonio needed to breathe too, and pulled away before I had to punch him in the balls and ruin the moment.

"Antonio...damn…" I panted. "We're in a greenhouse for god's sake! The walls are made out of glass!" I blushed as I noted the hand on my upper thigh and swatted at it.

He merely smiled and pecked my cheek. "Yeah, I know that."

I shot him a half-hearted glare. "Well, if my Nonno just so happened to see everything and just so happens to throw a knife at your face, then you brought it upon yourself."

"He won't. He likes me- why else would he help me plan this?"

I scoffed. "I should have known the whole I-need-tomatos thing was some shit he pulled out of his ass."

Antonio laughed softly. "You know," he said thoughtfully. "I never knew you could kiss like that, Lovi."

What kind of retarded statement was that? I rolled my eyes. "Of course I can! I'm Italian, bastard."

I was just moving to get off the table when I suddenly caught sight of a pale face with mischievous red eyes looking over Antonio's shoulder, and I jumped, falling ungracefully onto my back with a loud thud. The air was instantly knocked right out of my lungs, causing me to cough out in pain as I wondered just how many times a person could survive that terrible burning in their chest.

Antonio looked at me in concern, opening his mouth to ask what was wrong, when the bastard behind him started laughing and the Spaniard started almost as violently as I had. But of course, since no one can be as clumsy as I am, he didn't end up sprawled on the ground. "Gilbert?" He gasped out, holding a hand to his chest as he laughed.

"Kesesese! The one and only! I would apologize for interrupting, but Lovino was kinda hogging my awesome friend- who is less awesome than me of course- so...I'm not sorry." The two hugged, while I glared at them from the ground.

"For the love of- I'm still on the fucking ground!"

Antonio turned and glanced at me, smiling sheepishly. "Lo siento Lovi. Are you okay?"

I took the hand he offered me and nodded, rubbing my back as my eyes narrowed on the intruder. "As for you; get the hell out of my garden."

Gilbert smirked. "But-"

"Out!" With that, I grabbed him by the collar and dragged him outside, only to realize that he wasn't the only creep on the premises. "What the actual fuck?!" I sputtered, reddening at the sight of the four other stalkers, who were failing to act as though they were simply passing through and minding their own business.

Behind me, Antonio ducked through the doorway and let out a nervous chuckle. "Uh...hola!" He greeted, trying not to act as though we had been making out in a damn greenhouse. "How long have you all been out here...exactly?"

"Long enough," a short- but by no means quiet- Portuguese shrugged with a smirk on his face. "I had no idea you of all people could be so smooth."

Antonio started to protest indignantly, while Francis wiggled his eyebrows playfully. "What can I say? You two did give us quite the show."

My face grew even hotter as I shot a dangerous look at Antonio. "What the hell did I tell you, idiota?"

Elizabeta giggled. "Well, Kiku and I have some fantastic new ideas now!" The Japanese man nodded slightly, while Gilbert looked at his girlfriend with a strange look on his face.

"Ideas for what?" I asked suspiciously.

"You don't want to know," the albino muttered. "Trust me, even my awesomeness couldn't handle the shit they come up with-" Lizzy's green eyes flashed dangerously, and he gulped. "-did I say shit? I meant their...unique...drawings and whatnot. Yeah…"

* * *

Thanksgiving that year was actually...pretty fucking amazing. João was a huge hit, and absolutely everyone loved his loud amusing nature, and the obvious brotherly relationship between him and Antonio- although both of them swore to have no such feelings for the other. What made matters so much better in my selfish opinion, was that the Portuguese and Bella seemed to get along really well.

"Psst! Toni!" João hissed right before dinner, intercepting the two of us on the way inside. "What's that girl's name? The cute blonde one?"

Antonio glanced at said girl, who was helping Mamma Josefa set the table, and smiled curiously. "Bella?" He asked slowly.

"Is that her name?"

"That's what he said, dumbass," I muttered, unable to stop the giddy feeling in my gut.

"Why?" Antonio pressed, elbowing the shorter in the ribs. "You want to talk to her?"

"What? As if! Like I would go to you of all people to ask for that kind of thing!"

"Bella! Have you met my friend João?"

"Damn it Toni!" It was too late, for she was already in front of us with a bright smile on her face.

"Hallo! It's really nice to meet you!"

"Uh...you too!"

"So tell me, what's it like dealing with this guy in your setting?" She asked.

João's eyes lit up, for he was now in his element. "Well let me tell you…"

Nonno was friendly with Antonio this time, and the Spaniard lost the terrified look he used to have plastered on his face whenever my grandfather was around. Everyone wanted to hear stories- which the army duo had plenty of- and everyone was in near hysterics as they attempted to eat. Alfred was so intrigued he actually stopped scarfing down food so he could listen.

When I thought no one was looking, I reached over and grabbed Antonio's hand under the table, brushing his knee gently. He looked at me in slight surprise, then smiled, fixing our hands so that our fingers intertwined, and damn they just seemed to fit perfectly, like puzzle pieces were made to fit, and all that sappy romantic shit. I blushed softly, then looked up to see Feli, Nonno, and Francis all looking at me with knowing smirks on their faces. So much for being discrete.

* * *

"So," I started, blushing slightly at what I was going to bring up. "We're dating now?"

Antonio gave me a look that made me want to slam my face into my pizza in embarrassment. "That depends on if you want to," he was saying, his eyebrows furrowing in thought.

I crossed my arms and frowned, raising an eyebrow. "Well, dumbass, if I suggested it, I'm pretty sure I want it." My eyes widened slightly as I glared at the squirming Spaniard suspiciously. What had Nonno said about these guys and their commitment skills? That this was almost like a game to them, and that after they got what they wanted they just up and left- I cringed and shook my head. Thinking like that made my chest contrict painfully.

"Is there a problem with that? It didn't seem to bug you during the entire fucking year you chased me around."

He smiled at me apologetically. "That's not what I meant Lovi. I just didn't exactly think things through."

"You're damn right about that. Now explain before I kill you."

"Long distance relationships are difficult to manage, mi tomate, and that's when the two are able to visit each other periodically, and can stay on the phone for long hours into the night." Antonio's smile grew sad. "Where I'm going we won't be able to do any of that. Letters will be shorter and longer in between. I'll be gone for at least a year….and it's not even guaranteed that I'll be back at all."

My eyes softened a little as I hesitantly touched his tanned hand. He instantly took mine and squeezed it gently. "I'm not saying I don't want this, because I do. But, maybe it will be better for you if we just wait until I come back home. If something was to happen to me… I just don't want you to hurt anymore than you need to. We can talk about this later."

I shook my head stubbornly. "You're such an asshole. Who the hell even does that, huh? You finally get me to love you and then you leave and tell me to wait on it? It's stupid to act as though we don't feel the way we do." I glanced down at my lap and blushed. "I've been doing that long enough."

Antonio's eyes lit up subtly as he got up and slid into my booth, wrapping his arms around me. "If that's what you want, Lovi."

"Idiot. I've just spent the past ten minutes telling you: yes."

He smiled, finally that bright, cheerful smile I was used to. "That settles it then: you're my boyfriend. Aw, Lovi! It's so-"

"Don't even fucking say it."

"CUTE!"

I groaned, but otherwise didn't protest when he kissed me. Just how happy it actually made me was beyond embarrassing. "Hey, Tonio?"

"Yes Lovi?"

I sighed. "Do you have to go back?" I whispered. "Shit, that's a stupid question. Of course you do. Just...stay safe stronzo." He nodded and kissed my neck softly.

"I promise Lovi."

 _A/N: And I FINALLY updated. Oh my gosh guys, I am so sorry! *Insert a whole bunch of crappy excuses* I think I might switch my updating day to Thursday… it kinda works better. And also I can write during study hall instead of studying for Spanish or geometry like I'm supposed to._

 _Anywho! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! They're finally together! After 18 freaking chapters! If you liked it, please grace me with reviews!_

 _Thank you, awesome people!_

 _altera vita mea_


	19. Chapter 19

_Loving a Stranger_

 _Chapter nineteen: There's Two Kinds of News..._

The month was December, cold and miserable and lonely. It made me long for warmth and the more pleasant weather of Italy- which even in the winter was better than this- or at the very least it made me want to curl up in bed and hibernate. It also made me long for Antonio, for his warmth and happiness and affection. And thinking about my idiot always made my stomach knot up.

I was worried about him- I always was. And I wasn't the only one: Francis, Gilbert, and Francisco- who was around more often since Thanksgiving- were constantly on edge too. The times between one letter and the next was beyond stressful, and when something arrived from either Antonio or João we all took a huge sigh of relief. For a letter meant that up until the date it had been sent they were still alive. "Lovino, don't even worry about Toni," João would write. "He's an idiot, but he's not bad if he focuses. And I'm here to make sure he does that."

Ironically, Mammá Josefa had manned up the most- which was really amazing. She had gone through this all before, with a terrible ending, but she stayed strong and helped the rest of us cope. Francisco would always shake his head in wonder and say, "She truly is a remarkable woman." In reality though, she worried just as much as the rest of us, perhaps even more, but only those who had known her the longest could tell. Francis and Gilbert noticed almost right away.

It made me wonder how much longer we could actually keep our damn sanity. It had only been two weeks and we were already freaking out! How the hell could we survive a month, a year?

"Lovino! Quit spacing out! I asked you to pass me the wrench!"

I was rudely shaken out of my thoughts by the Potato- who was currently half under my car. After we had fixed the starter, he had insisted on changing the damn oil too. It seemed to me that he was just coming up with shit to get me to stay longer- kind of like Gilbert's bonding fail with the beer- but I guess this was free service so I refrained from chucking the wrench at Ludwig's face.

"Maybe if you weren't blasting your stupid German music I would be able to hear you," I retorted. It wasn't like I'd listen to him anyway: I wanted to act like I wasn't stuck here in the Beilschmidts' garage with the one person I absolutely hated, wearing some of Feli's painting clothes with new grease stains at the knees. I wanted to be far way; I wanted warmth, I wanted love, I wanted Antonio.

"You're doing it again!" The irritable German roared, bringing his head out to glare at me.

I jumped and swore at the suddenness. "What the fuck?!"

"I said: you can turn the radio off!"

"Why don't you do it, potato bastard?"

Ludwig rolled out from under the car, stood up, and pointed at me. "You're finishing it."

I blinked. "What? You're the bastard who wanted to change the oil in the first place! I'm not fucking doing it!"

"I'm trying to do your haughty self a favor! Why do you have to be such an asshole? Maybe you should, I don't know, try to be a decent person for a change!"

"I'd rather be a fucking asshole than be decent to you! If you really hate me, why'd you even offer your damn help! This is just a shitty plan to get into my brother's pants, isn't it!"

Ludwig gave me an odd look, then took a deep breath and held it for a second. "I honestly don't even know where you come up with some of this stuff," he said in a slightly calmer voice, finally turning off the radio. I glared at him, my eyes narrowing.

"First of all, I don't hate you- even though you are a dick. Secondly, my motives for helping you had nothing to do with Feliciano. I wanted to figure out why you hate me."

I scoffed. "Wouldn't you like to know."

"Ja, I would. Have you been like this to his other...romantic interests?"

I stared at him long and hard, taking in the somewhat exasperated look on his face, the slight frown, the way his eyes seemed to beg for an explanation. He just wanted to know the truth, and dammit, the way things were going he'd end up being my fucking brother in law before long. In reality, he needed the truth. "How much did he tell you?" I asked.

Ludwig's frown grew thoughtful as he tried to recall the bits of information that- knowing my brother- had been dumped on him when he least expected it. "He told me about the divorce, and that he was bullied a lot when he was younger, that the boys would call him a girl and force him into dresses..." I cringed slightly, but nodded. "He said you tried to help when you could...and I think...he mentioned his first love, but he didn't go into detail about it."

"I don't even remember his name," I said with a shake of my head. "But he helped Feli more than I could back then... He was the one who actually protected my brother from those bastard children, and before I knew they were in the most serious relationship a couple of seven year olds could be in. But he left that summer. For Germany. And it broke my fratellino's heart. He kept telling me he'd return, that he'd come back for him, but he never did." I sighed.

"I've always promised Feli that I'd be there for him, and I've failed him- three times. I failed when I couldn't keep our parents together. I wasn't strong enough to stop those other kids. I had to be the one to finally tell him that his little boyfriend wasn't coming back. I won't let that shit happen to him again- ever. I swear if you do anything to hurt him I will fucking hunt you down and you'd be better off if the mafia had gotten to you instead!"

Ludwig was quiet for a minute, contemplating what I had told him, then hesitantly laid a large hand on my shoulder. I think this was the first time he had actually touched me, because the last time I remember him attempting was when Feli introduced him to me, and I had almost bit off his hand. "I understand why that would make you cautious," He said slowly. "And I think I can understand why it would make you dislike me as well, but I...I would never do anything to hurt Feliciano. And if I ever were to, I'd deserve far more than what you would actually do to me."

I glanced up and him and smirked. "You finally answered something right, Potato Bastard."

* * *

It had happened back in July, the month before Antonio had left. For some random reason, Francis had wanted to throw a crazy party while his parents were off in Europe, so everyone was living it up in his house. The Bad Touch Trio was the worst; one had long since disappeared into one of the bedrooms with god knew who it was this time, one had won three beer drinking competitions and was now terribly drunk, and the third had pulled his guitar out of his ass and started attempting to fucking serenade me.

"Bastard, stop." I ordered moodily, wondering why the hell I had even come. Oh, it was because Feli had showed up with Ludwig, and everyone knew what happened at Francis' parties. I was here to protect my little brother!

Antonio's bottom lip stuck out in a pout, but his fingers didn't stop moving gracefully over his instrument's fretboard. "You don't like it?" He whined.

"I can't fucking hear it over the shitty music, idiot!" I muttered, crossing my arms.

"We can go outside!"

"No."

"Lovi!"

"Don't call me that." I stood up, having enough of this. "I'm going home."

"What?"

"I'm leaving. You know I hate crowds." Antonio set his guitar down and jumped up. "Wait. I'll walk you out!"

I rolled my eyes, knowing he wouldn't take no for an answer. We had barely made it out of the living room when we heard a loud, drunken "kesesesesese!" and a haunting crash. Antonio froze, then spun around and ran back and started down right shrieking half in Spanish. "MIO DIOS! MI BEBÉ! MY GUITAR!"

Sighing tiredly, I walked back into the living room, where the lights had been turned on and the music stopped while a mournful Spaniard held a piece of his beloved instrument, looking like he was torn between crying and murdering the perpetrator. "Gilbert," he said slowly. "What did you do?"

The drunken albino shrugged. "I dunno, but it was awesome! C'mon Toni! You're not even gonna need it next month- gah!"

Everyone gasped when Antonio threw the destroyed guitar at his indifferent friend, who screamed as it hit him in the chest. "NOT AWESOME! NOT AWESOME!" Francis ended up running back in, his shirt slipping off his shoulders as he pulled the two away from each other, imploring me of all people to help out.

So I got stuck trying to comfort Antonio, who was shaking in a mixture of rage and grief and glaring at Gilbert, who ended up with a few splinters in his chest and arms.

That party ended early. Francis never got to finish his sex.

More importantly, Antonio never got a new guitar.

At first, I thought my idea was fucking brilliant; Christmas was around the corner, so I might as well be a good boyfriend and buy him one. But as I entered the music store, I began to realize how incredibly stupid the whole thing was. For starters, Antonio had gotten that instrument in Spain after his eighth grade graduation, and it had been linked to a whole bunch of his high school memories. There was no way in hell I could replace something of that great of a sentimental value.

Secondly, have you seen how expensive anything pertaining to music is? Last year, I had to buy a new viola bow, and the cheapest one was fucking $50! I did have money saved up from my years of slavery at Jensen's, but god that was still a lot of money.

The third thing was the fact that he wasn't even going to be home for Christmas, which was seriously depressing. But...I think I liked that part of the idea. The guitar, like me, would have to wait until he got back. But in the meantime, I would still get him something for Christmas, for our month anniversary, for his birthday, for Valentine's, for our six-month anniversary… and then when he came home I would make it up for all those times we were separated. It was fucking romantic; Nonno should be proud.

But lastly, how was I supposed to know just what guitar he would want? Damn...he'd probably want to pick it out himself! It would be like me trusting someone else to order my food at a resturaunt. No. Fucking. Way.

 _Just breathe,_ I told myself. _It's Antonio. He'll appreciate it. He's always loved even the smallest gestures of affection._

Maybe the bigger issue would be to get the girl who worked at the store to not think I was a total idiot. "Uh...what kind of guitar did you say you wanted again?"

 _Shit._ "I...uh...I don't know! I didn't know there were different kinds...well, I knew there were electric guitars...but I uh…"

"You're not looking for an electric guitar though?"

"Uh...No…"

"Well sir?"

"It's like….the ones they play in Spain! Yeah…."

"Do you mean a classical?"

"I guess… Do they play those in Spain?"

She laughed, and I couldn't help but feel utterly humiliated. "I guess they do, sir. Classicals are also known as Spanish guitars."

"Really? Then yeah! That's what I need!"

I finally managed to find the perfect instrument; it was a good brand, one I remember Antonio gushing about, and the guitar looked and sounded beautiful. I was sure he would love it. He better, because my wallet was now empty.

* * *

When I got home, I locked myself in my bedroom and carefully took out the guitar and tuned it by ear- it's as easy as breathing if you've been around instruments long enough. I gently ran my fingers along the strings and played a few simple tunes that Antonio had tried teaching me. He had to eventually give up because I was too stubborn to cooperate, but I still knew some of the basics. It made me feel closer to the warmth I longed for.

 _That's what I'll do,_ I thought to myself. _I'll play it a little every day until he comes home, I guess it will keep it from getting out of shape as well_. The guitar was like a silent vow: I will see Antonio again. There were actually a lot of similarities between the instrument and I. The guitar would one day be played right, and it's melody will ring in triumphant vibrancy. And I will be held and caressed in that affectionate way only Antonio can get away with. The guitar was silent and I was alone and scared. It needed someone to help it sing its song, while I needed that same person to be my light.

For now, the guitar must wait. So must I.

I had been playing for a couple minutes when suddenly this overwhelming feeling of terror came over me. I felt cold. I couldn't understand it, but it just felt like something was wrong. I put the guitar back in it's case and took a shower. I needed to get a grip.

* * *

"I didn't know you were picking up guitar too, mio nipote," Nonno said, fixing his tie as he walked into my room and nodded to Antonio's guitar case on my bed.

I rolled my eyes and brushed back my still damp hair. "I'm not. It's a Christmas gift."

Nonno smiled. "Really? Who's it for?"

"Antonio. I'm giving it to him when he comes home."

"Ah, that's my grandson! Romance runs in the family, sí?" He asked enthusiastically.

"Sure. When are you leaving?" I grumbled, gingerly taking the case and storing it under my bed.

He was supposed to be taking off with Mr. Beilschmidt on business for the week, but he now had a habit of sticking around to ask me five fucking million times if I'd be alright on my own. It wasn't like I was a goddamn adult or anything! About fifteen minutes ago he had had the audacity to tell me in all seriousness to call Gilbert if I needed anything. Gilbert. Was I so pathetic I needed _him_ to babysit me?

Nonno laughed loudly. "Sounds like you're trying to get rid of me! I'm hurt!"

"You act as if I care."

He pouted a little, and then his eyes sparkled in the mischievous way they did when he was about to break what he called "fantastic" news. "Lovino," he said slowly.

"What the fuck could you possibly want now?"

"I'm going to pretend like you didn't say that," he murmured. "By any chance, have you been expecting anything from Italy recently?"

I blinked once, twice, and then suddenly gasped. "Oh dio! Is it from FCAS?"

Nonno smiled and pulled out an envelope, handing it to me as he tried to mask his excitement. "It appears so."

My hand trembled as I took it, staring at the return address in shock.

"Open it."

There was no way I could do that. What if it was a letter of rejection, an 'I'm sorry, you suck' kind of response? I couldn't open it, the idea of doing so was terrifying. "No," I muttered, shoving it back at him. "You're doing it."

Nonno's smile faltered slightly, but he didn't protest.

I squeezed my eyes closed and dug my fingernails into my palms as I heard him slowly ripping open the envelope and pulling out the sheet of paper.

There was a second of silence.

 _Oh god I failed. Of course I would! I'm such a fucking useless-_

"Lovino...you're in!"

My eyes snapped open as I stared at him. "What?"

Nonno's smile was back, and he practically danced around the room for a second before pointing at the paper. "It says so right here! 'Dear Lovino, congratulations!'"

I jumped up and nearly ripped the letter out of his hands, continuing to read it myself. "'It is my pleasure to inform you of your acceptance to Florence Culinary Art School-' oh my god! I'm fucking in!" I screamed, threw the letter into the air, ran around the room like a complete psycho, then gave Nonno the biggest hug I could muster, all the while chanting, "I'm in! I'm in!"

He laughed and kissed the top of my head. "Si! You are! I'm so proud of you Lovino!"

I felt tears pricking at the corners of my eyes at the words. He was proud of...me? Had he ever said those words to me before?

"Who knows? Maybe you can even get in this coming semester," he continued. "It would be good for you, a change of scenery, a way to cope."

I was shaking with excitement. For the first time in my life, I could actually see my future, and it was bright. I could already picture it: a beautiful pristine professional kitchen and a five-star restaurant, all belonging to me. My only employees would be people as passionate about the food as I was- there would be no one half-assing on my watch. That would be my life, for once doing what I loved. I would come home, exhausted, but happy, to a warm, comfortable home where retarded Spanish music always played, where beautiful tomatoes grew in the backyard. Someone would sneak up behind me and slip their arms around my waist and softly kiss my neck. "How was work, mi tomate?"

I blushed and giggled stupidly at the thought. This was too amazing.

There was a loud honk outside that broke me away from my thoughts, and Nonno chuckled. "That's my ride! I'll see you in a week, alright?"

"Sure."

The second he left I called Feli. "Lovino, is something wrong?"

I laughed. "Wrong? Hell no! I got into FCAS!"

There was a gasp from the other line. "Really? Ohmygosh! Lovino that's fantastico! I'm so happy for you! Ve! This is so exciting! When are you going? How long will you be there? Who will you be staying with? Do you think you'll be alright on your own?"

"Feli, I don't know yet," I had to tell him before he talked my ear off, smiling the entire time. "But I'll figure it out."

We talked for some time after that, mostly about the near future, until I finally convinced him that it might be a good idea to somewhat study for his upcoming final and hung up.

Next, I group texted Francis and Gilbert.

 **From: Me**

 **To: PervySnail, Albino Potato**

 _Bastards. Get your asses to my house. Now._

 **From: PervySnail**

 _Why?_ _Did something happen?_

 **From: Me**

 _I'M GOING TO FLORENCE!_

 **From: Albino Potato**

 _Wait...Florence Oregon?_

 **From: Me**

 _What the actual fuck?! NO!_

 **From: PervySnail**

 _Oh god...Gil, he means Italy! He got into that culinary school!_

 **From: Albino Potato**

 _Oh! Duh! Congratulations! That's SO AWESOME!_

 **From: PervySnail**

 _Oui! It's quite amazing!_

 **From: Me**

 _Now get over here. This wine is not going to drink itself!_

 **From: PervySnail**

 _On my way. From: Albino Potato Permission to bring beer?_

 **From: Me**

 _Hell no._

 **From: PervySnail**

 _Non!_

Less than half an hour later, the three of us were sprawled out on the couch like a particular time in September, but instead of weeping we were laughing our heads off in between sips of wine. Well, Francis and I were, Gilbert cracked jokes as well, but more or less glared at his glass instead of drinking from it. Whatever, he had his way last time.

"When will you be going?" The Frenchman asked curiously.

I shrugged. "Could be as early as next month actually. Depends on if Nonno can get in touch with any of his connections there."

"You make it sound like he's in the mafia."

"I never said he wasn't," I chuckled.

Gilbert smirked. "When you're not being an ass, you're actually kind of awesome," he noted.

I returned the look as well as the half compliment. "And when you're not fucking yourself you're actually decent."

"At least I am fucking someone then!"

I made a face, while Francis looked rather disturbed. "Why would you- never mind." His phone suddenly started ringing, and he stood up to answer it, walking into the kitchen.

I glanced back at Gilbert. "Was that seriously the best comeback you could come up with?"

He opened his mouth to retort, but Francis' worried voice interrupted him. "Maman Josefa? What's wrong?"

We shut up immediately and turned to get a look at the blonde, who was pacing back into the living room. "Oui...Lovino and Gilbert are here too...what...mon dieu! Are you….oui...we'll be there as soon as we can."

He dropped into his seat next to me and slowly hung up the phone, his face sheet white. He didn't say anything, he just sat there, as still as a statue, his eyes wide and his breathing irregular.

"Wine Bastard," I said, touching his arm. "What the fuck happened?"

He blinked, then glanced at me with an expression that looked so incredibly lost, hurt, and confused.

I felt cold.

Gilbert balled his fists on his lap. "FRANCIS!" He shouted. "DAMMIT TELL US!"

That got him out of his stupor. He let out a sobbing sigh. "T-Toni's in the hospital."

 _ **A/N: And this part of the story has begun….I'm sorry…**_

 _ **I feel absolutely miserable...I had a fever last night, and was forced to go to school and endure all these annoying people here… oh well, at least I got to update…**_

 _ **Like always, grace me with a review, please? Thanks!**_

 _ **Did I ever tell you that you guys are awesome?**_

 _ **altera vita mea**_


	20. Chapter 20

_Loving a Stranger_

 _Chapter twenty: Don't Freak Out..._

The glass in my hand had fallen to the floor, but no one noticed when it shattered, spilling its contents and staining the couch. My head was reeling as if someone had punched me in between the eyes. I glanced at Gilbert's jaw-hanging, deer-in-the-headlights expression, and then at Francis, who looked as though he was about to cry. "No," I muttered.

The Frenchman looked back at me, his lower lip trembling. "I know it's-"

"No!" I repeated, louder this time. I was trying to convince myself. "It wasn't him. They all look the same when they shave their heads like that. It was someone else. It had to be." Air was having a hard time getting into my lungs, and my breathing was short and irregular. I was hyperventilating.

Francis grew quiet, looking at me sadly: it honestly pissed me off. "Would you get that fucking look off your face!" I demanded, roughly shoving him away. My fingers were trembling, and I wanted nothing more than to punch him in the nose. His eyes moistened as he opened his mouth to speak. "No! I don't want to hear anything from you, lying bastard! Now get the hell out of my house!"

I stood up to enforce my resolve, but crumpled to the floor as I stepped on a piece of glass. I didn't really feel it, but that was when I started crying. That was when it dawned on me: Antonio was actually in a hospital in the middle of god knew where, broken, bleeding, dead…

"He promised," I whimpered in between sobs, pounding the glass-covered ground. "He promised he'd be fine, that s-stupid lying jerk!"

That was when Gilbert finally snapped out of it, jumping to his feet and rushing over to me. "Francis! Get off your ass and help me!" He ordered, grabbing me by the arm in an attempt to get me up. When that didn't work, he simply picked me up and carried me into the bathroom. "Francis! Clean up- now!"

There was something about the unexpected maturity in his voice that left no room for argument. Francis shook himself into attention and dashed into the kitchen while the albino set me down on the counter and searched the drawers for bandages and maybe some hydrogen peroxide.

"Lovino, you're going to have to pull yourself together," he chided gently. "Trying to get yourself killed isn't going to make anything better. Neither will lashing out at Francis."

I took several deep, but shaky breaths and nodded tearfully as I pointed to the drawer he was looking for. He opened it and grabbed a washcloth from the closet as he poured some medication on it. "Besides, now isn't the time to start freaking out. It's unawesome to lose our heads before we know the whole situation. It might not even be as serious as we think."

I winced slightly as he wiped my bloodied foot, surprised that Gilbert of all people was being the reasonable, level-headed one. "A-and what if it is?"

He flashed me his normal, confident smirk. It failed to reach his eyes- for in reality he was just as worried as Francis and I- but it still gave me some reassurance. "I've known Antonio for fifteen awesome years. He can be an oblivious idiot, but when push comes to shove, he's passionate, he's tough- he learned from the best. He'll make it."

I wanted to believe him, I wanted to tell myself that it was nothing too terrible, that he was fine, that he was not lying in a random hospital bed broken and disfigured for life. But… what the hell did Gilbert know? He had absolutely no control over the situation, just as Antonio had no business making a promise he had no control over. I almost started crying again.

A few moments later Francis stumbled in, sniffling pitifully- although I'm the last one who should be talking. He had been crying too, if the puffy eyes and red nose meant anything. "W-what are we going to do?" He asked.

Gilbert finished bandaging my foot and slapped my knee in what was intended to an encouragement. It was a retarded one. "We are going to get our shit together," he said firmly. "We're not going to act like unawesome girl-boys. We are going to stay as rational as possible and we will get our asses over to Mutter Josefa because damn that woman has more freaking out rights than the rest of us. We are going to stick together until we figure out what the hell is going on. That's what we are going to do."

Francis released a tense sigh and nodded. "Oui, I like that."

"I'm personally wondering when the fuck you grew up, bastardo," I muttered, lightly kicking at the smirking albino.

He grabbed my leg before I could inflict much damage and shrugged mysteriously, urging us to get ready to leave. Maybe he had always been like that: stupid and immature normally, but the one who always took control of the situation when disasters arose. I hated to admit it, but that calm leadership was a good quality. It had numbed Francis and I to a reserved, worried silence, and once we got to the Carriedo home we stepped to the side and let him handle the sobbing Spanish mother.

He seemed aware of it too, for he glanced at both of us and asked me to grab a box of tissues while instructing Francis to make something hot and soothing to drink. Then he sat down on the couch beside Mamma Josefa and rubbed her back, uttering strangely comforting words.

By the time the Frenchman returned with a tray of steaming mugs of tea she had actually stopped crying and merely dabbed at her makeup stained eyes with a tissue I had brought. "Muchas gracias, mis hijos," she murmured gratefully as she took an offered mug and nearly drowned herself in it. "Lo siento... I didn't mean to react like this," she sighed tiredly, looking older without her usual bright smile. "It was just... When I got the call it reminded me so much of when mi esposo... I'm sorry."

Gilbert shook his head firmly. "Don't be. You're a mom- it's your job to worry."

"Did they tell you what happened...exactly?" Francis questioned, his French accent wobbling with fear and uncertainty.

I mutely glanced at Antonio's mother as she pursed her lips and her fingers tightened on her mug. "Not in detail. There was an evacuation a-and he was too close to a building when it exploded. João was involved too, although his injuries weren't as...serious. They were both transported to Ankara and-"

I had stopped listening. She said a building had...exploded. As in, with a bomb. I could vaguely remember angrily yelling at Antonio when I had first found out he was leaving.

 _"I hope someone drops a bomb on you so I'll never have to see you again!"_

My heart stopped beating for a moment, not in a good way either, but in that strangled feeling of complete horror. I hadn't meant it, I swear I hadn't meant a word of it for a second, and yet he- The dark irony was killing me, and I felt my eyes tear up again. "This is my fault. It's all my damn fault."

The awkward silence that followed the thought was proof that I hadn't actually kept it to myself and I glanced up with wide eyes, taking in the confused red, blue, and green eyes. "Uh... Mi dispiace. I didn't mean to-"

"Lovino," Mammá Josefa said seriously, interrupting me. "This is not your fault. There was nothing you could have done to prevent this. Do you understand?"

I nodded, of course I couldn't have stopped it, but I still couldn't help but feel painfully responsible. I mean, life had been cruel to me since day one, and fate had always had it out for me. Whenever something remotely good seemed to happen, everything would suddenly crumble out from under my feet. Now it was taking those I loved along with me. I should have expected something to go down. But why did it happen to Antonio instead? The bastard never deserved it.

I tried to stay calm, but the lump in my throat was burning, screaming for release, so I let out a choked sob and allowed the tears to slip down my face. "I'm sorry," I cried. "I'm so sorry."

Mammá Josefa- Dio bless that amazing woman- scooted closer to me and wrapped her arms around me in a hug. Now I see where her son got it from. "It's alright," she cooed softly, gently running her fingers through the back of my hair. "It's not your fault." She continued whispering soothing words in a mixture of Spanish and English until I managed to get a hold of myself and merely sat there hiccuping.

"Feeling better?" Francis asked, touching my shoulder. I nodded mutely, and he seemed satisfied.

"When are you leaving?" Gilbert was questioning Mammá Josefa and leaning forward on his elbows. He looked drained to be honest, staying strong for the rest of us was getting to him.

"Francisco will be here around two in the morning. It'll be a long flight."

Francis sighed. "I wish we were going with you..."

"As if our drama would help any," the self-proclaimed Prussian scoffed.

The Spanish woman smiled a little. "I wish I could bring all three of you. You have no idea how much good you've done."

"Keep in touch with me," I mumbled. "I don't care when, so don't even worry about the time zones. I don't care if it's two in the morning, if something happens call me."

She nodded, and another small, persevering smile found its way to her face. "I will. My son is very lucky to have you, Lovino."

I silently shook my head. No, I was the lucky one. I was lucky to have him, because there was no way I deserved someone so stupidly sweet and as pathetically happy as Antonio. Maybe that was why I might be losing him; because I never should have had him to begin with.

The night was long and depressing as hell. Everyone told me to get some sleep, because I had a tendency to look like shit whenever I was upset, but instead I simply sat around, sulked, and swore at Francis and Gilbert whenever they said something stupid.

That worked up until Mammá Josefa literally dragged me into Antonio's empty bedroom with the threat of, "if I come in here and you're not asleep, I will not call you once from Turkey."

Talk about fucking evil. It worked though, for in less than two minutes I was curled up in the bed, inhaling the familiar scent of Antonio through the sheets. It was actually comforting to be there, for it almost felt like he was there in the room instead of a hospital in Turkey.

It sounds stupid, I know, but that's my only explanation for the sudden calmness I felt. _He'll be okay,_ I told myself as I dropped off to sleep. _He's Antonio. Nothing ever keeps him down for long._

* * *

 _Omake- of Sorts A/N: Because you all deserve to know the real story..._

 _Antonio's POV_

"Hey."

I looked up just as João sat down beside me, lightly hitting the back of my head. I smiled slightly at him, and he nodded before gazing off into the distance, no longer the loud, overly zealous person I had gotten to know. "You nervous?" I asked softly.

He blinked, then scoffed. "What? No! Not at all. Not about myself anyway- it's you I'm worried about. I told Lovino you'd be fine, so you'd better pay attention and not screw up. Because if you die, that guy is going to have my head."

I laughed quietly. "I think this is your way of saying you care."

"Think what you want. Just stay alive, bro." His lips twisted into a tiny stressed smile as he turned to me.

My smile grew serious. "You too, hermano."

* * *

Evacuation. The enemy was coming and we needed to get this town to safety. I've never attempted anything more stressful in my entire life.

Chaos. We were trying to bring about order but it was impossible. It was like they didn't want order. Yelling, confusion. Pay attention! Get the people into the trucks, turn around and get more. Repeat. Stay safe, stay alive. Keep others safe. It was exhausting. It was terrifying, but I didn't really have time to think about it.

Shouting, explosions. They were here. We had to leave, we had to get the citizens out. There are only two trucks left, and a handful of people. We can do this.

Screaming, frantic shouts, a young woman was half out of one of the vehicles, pointing back to the town desperately. We tried to calm her, but she was panicking, sobbing. It dawned on me that someone had been left.

"Don't worry about it," someone beside me muttered. "It happens sometimes. It just means we do better next time."

I frowned, and looked back at the woman, and she glanced back at me. I couldn't understand what she said, but her teary eyes were begging me to help, do to something.

I made a decision.

"Antonio! What the hell are you doing?!" I heard João shouting after me, but I didn't stop.

I turned and ran back into the chaos, the destruction. It was hard to breathe, dust and smoke were everywhere, the air was scorching hot. Bodies, oh dios there were bodies, bloodied broken bodies. Explosions were getting closer, my heart was pounding. I wanted to go back, to turn around and return to the safety of the trucks, to be on the next plane back to America. I didn't think I could actually do this anymore.

A whimper, a small cry from one of the buildings. I froze. That was a child's voice. No, there was no way I could turn my back and leave a kid behind to die such a terrible death. I took a deep breath and ran into the house.

All was dark, it was clammy and empty feeling. I spun around in circles, trying to locate the source of the voice, gently calling and praying I would hear a response.

There were more explosions and another cry, quiet and desperate. That was when I saw him, a little boy who looked no older than six curled into the far corner. There was dirt on his face and blood on his leg, his limb was twisted into an odd angle. I released a deep sigh and slowly crouched down beside him, offering him one of my biggest smiles, somehow managing to push my fears to the side. "Hola," I said gently. "Let's get you out of here, sí?"

There was no way he could understand what I was saying, but he trusted me enough to wrap his tiny arms around my neck, silent and brave. I shook my head in wonder: I was supposed to be giving him courage, but it had ended up being the other way around.

I stood up just as something was thrown in through the window, nearly hitting my foot as it rolled along the floor, ticking ominously. Eyes widened, my arms tightened their grip as I ran for my life. I had to get him out of here. It was too late.

An explosion, this one so close the ground trembled and my feet went out from under me. I fell and rolled a couple of feet, fighting to keep my weight off the kid. I managed to keep my back to the exploding building and curled in, shielding him the best I could while an agonizingly hot sensation licked at my back and burning particles flew around. Something hit me in the head so hard I saw a flash of white, and I trembled in unbearable pain, biting my lip so hard I could taste blood.

I wouldn't cry out, I had to stay strong. People were counting on me...this boy was...João and the others...my mother...Lovi...my adorable little tomate... It hurts...

The world around me was going dark; it would have been so easy to just let go and allow it to happen...

* * *

 _João's POV_

Have you ever felt the weight of impending doom? It settles in the pit of your gut and slowly eats away at you until you feel as though everything is lost. That was exactly what I felt when I saw that idiot running back into an area that resembled everything I had heard about hell: fire, smoke, explosions, death. It filled me with dread.

I tried yelling after him, but he didn't listen to me. He never listened to me. What a moron, I had told him specifically to not get himself killed and what does he do? Leap right into death's waiting arms.

I spun around in search of someone who could help me- because I wasn't stupid enough to blindly follow him. I located Lieutenant Nelson, our superior officer, who was staring back to where Antonio had disappeared with a grim look on his face. Although most of the higher ranking officers looked down on us, I had always gotten the impression that he liked the rookies, however flighty and pathetic we were.

"Sir!" I shouted. "We can't just leave him there!"

Nelson's face turned even grimmer as his lips pressed into a firm straight line and nodded his head once. "You're right. Stay with the others, I'll go after him."

"No sir!"

He glared at me, shooting me a warning I wouldn't heed. "There is no point in losing another man. You're staying."

I took a step forward and squared my shoulders. "With all do respect, sir, I'm going with you. Antonio is the closest thing I have to a younger brother, and there is no way I'm going to sit around while he's in danger." There. I had said it out loud: Antonio was like my brother, and he was my responsibility.

Nelson finally relented, sighing irritably. "Get your weapon. Stay close. Stay alert."

I nodded and secured my gun while he informed the others of our intentions. "Let's go, Rookie."

I followed him carefully back into the already destroyed town. My fingers twitched on my trigger and I kept my wits about me, my eyes constantly scanned the area for any sign of danger, or more importantly a sign of Toni.

That was when I saw him, curled up on his side in front of what used to be a building. I forgot all about being cautious and tossed my weapon on the ground, ignoring Nelson's angry protests as I ran for him. "Antonio! I told you not to die, retard!" I dropped to my knees beside him and reached out to touch him, but I suddenly froze.

He looked absolutely terrible: in fact, he looked half-dead. Most of his back was exposed as his shirt was nothing but useless scorched cloth now, nasty-looking burn marks were already appearing on his skin, and, oh god he was bleeding from the head. He was visibly shaking as he weakly lifted his battered head to look at me, smiling bravely but his eyes betrayed him. His normally dancing green orbs were slightly glazed over in pain, wide, and frightened. "I'm...not dead...yet," he murmured.

How was he still awake? I wanted to yell at him for his stupidness and demand to know what the hell had possessed him to come back, but Nelson finally got his ass over, swearing softly at Antonio's condition.

"We need to get him out of here," he said.

The injured idiot on the ground coughed. "Wait..." He slowly, painfully, uncurled himself, revealing this little kid that was clinging to his chest. "Get him...to his mother..."

He came back for a child? I couldn't help but tear up and I gently took the boy from his grasp. T _oni, you gentle, sweet bastard,_ I thought. _You saved this kid's life._

Antonio's breathing was shallow, and it was scaring the living shit out of me. "Please...tell Lovi that I'm sorry...I couldn't keep my promise..." His tense muscles relaxed and he finally slipped into unconsciousness.

 _ **A/N: I'm sorry, this chapter jumped POVs quite a bit, but I felt you needed to know the full story, and...well...this was the best way to do it. So yeah…**_

 _ **I hope you all liked it! If you did, grace me with a review! Please?**_

 _ **I love all you guys! Check it out: over 70 reviews?! I am shocked. I had no idea my first fic would end up being so well received! This is such an honor! Thank you all so much!**_

 _ **altera vita mea**_


	21. Chapter 21

_Loving a Stranger_

 _Chapter twenty-one: The Waiting Game_

The next morning found me sprawled out in bed, stubbornly squeezing my eyes closed in spite of the fact that I was waking up. For half a second, I believed everything that had occurred the previous night was some seriously screwed up dream, and that when I opened my eyes I would shake my head and grumble, "damn that dream was fucked up. What the hell did I eat last night?" But when my eyes hesitantly fluttered open, I discovered much to my dismay that I was still in Antonio's bed instead of my own. My heart sank.

 _No, this definitely wasn't a dream,_ I thought as I reached for my phone. What the hell? It was like everyone and their mother had texted me in the night with their concerns, especially my brother.

 **From: Feli**

 _Fratello! Francis told me what happened to Big Brother Toni. Are you okay?_

 **From: Nonno**

 _Is everything okay? Feli told me your boyfriend's in the hospital._

 **From: Bella**

 _Lovino? Francis told me everything. How are you?_

 **From: Elizabeta**

 _Is there any word on Toni yet? I just heard the news! This is terrible..._

 **From: Alfred**

 _Dude! What's going on? I heard Toni's in Turkey!_

I gritted my teeth and turned off my phone, not wanting to deal with all those nosy bastards. I groaned and flopped into the pillows as I rubbed at my face. _Really Francis? Did you really have to go tell the whole damn world? What a drama queen._

I eventually found the motivation to get up and pull on the clothes from last night as I trudged out of the room. It was evident that Mammá Josefa had already left, I could tell just by walking down the hall. Francis and Gilbert were in the kitchen, and their voices could be heard over the sounds of breakfast in the making.

"But what are we going to do?" It sounded like Francis, his accent more pronounced as his emotion caused his voice to waver.

"We're going to do what I've been saying this whole damn time: stop freaking out," Gilbert's voice was harsh, like it was the millionth time he had uttered those words. "It helps no one. You know what Toni would want? He'd want you to take a breather, get your ass to class, spend the night with Arthur or whatever. He'd want you to keep going! Do you think he'd want you to shut down like this?"

"And who made you the Antonio spokesperson?"

"The awesome me did! Because you obviously don't know how to operate under stress."

"Allow me a few words, Monsieur," the words were now dripping in sarcasm. "But what about Lovino? Do you think our ami would want us to abandon his love? Especially after what happened back in October?"

"Gott! Did you ever hear me say, 'let's ditch Lovino?' I'm saying we need to focus on-" The words died on the Prussian's mouth as his sharp red eyes narrowed in on me, who had been standing awkwardly in the doorway. Francis turned away from the stove to make an angry retort, but he too saw me, and softened his expression. "Bonjour, Lovino." An attempt to act as those everything was fine, to see if I had heard anything.

I clenched the fists at my sides and gritted my teeth. I hated how everyone always treated me like a fucking child. It was like I was their kid and they couldn't let me know they were in a fight, especially since it concerned me in one way or another. It pissed me off. No, I wasn't a child, I was an adult; a broken, fucked up, depressed, lonely adult. But maybe that was how it was supposed to be. Maybe that was the way I liked it.

"I'm going home, bastards. Do whatever the hell you want."

* * *

The guitar seemed to be crying with me, it's melody was so mournful and pathetic- or maybe that was on account of my nonexistent playing skills. I didn't want to think about him, but of course I did.

 _How is he? Is he awake? Is he in pain?_

 _Is he...dead?_

I hated asking myself those questions, for I was ignorant of the answers. I had hated talking to Nonno and Feliciano, for they only asked the questions I myself asked, those depressing, unanswerable questions. I wiped at my eyes to get rid of my tears, but they were so damn stubborn, they returned after only a few seconds of clear vision.

My phone started ringing, bringing me out of my moody state. I set down the precious instrument- the guitar with no guitarist- and glanced at the device, my heart clenching painfully as I answered it. "Mammá?"

" _Hola Lovino."_ The returning voice sounded so tired, so strained, so unlike the thrill-loving, joy-seeking, passion-fueled woman who had become the closest thing I've had to a mother since I was five. She sounded weak, as fragile as that brave little daisy in the approaching winter. It was truly frightening. Before I could even ask her if something had happened, she trudged on in Spanish, apparently too exhausted to speak anything but her first language.

It was okay, I had learned Spanish back in Italy. They made kids learn multiple languages at a young age, and I had figured another Romance language would be easier than learning something like German or Dutch. And of course, when Antonio had found out, he all but forced me to speak the language every so often. "You know what this means, Lovi?" He had squealed.

"I don't fucking care what you think it means, bastardo."

"It means we were destined to be together!"

"What the hell?! You fucking stupid asshat of a bastard!"

 _Focus!_ I ordered myself, shaking away the memory so I could pay attention to the present. It was nothing too critical, she and Francisco had just landed- ten fucking hours later- and were searching for a hotel near the hospital. It was ten o'clock in Ankara, so they would have to make the excursion over there when the sun arose and they allowed visitors, that was assuming Antonio hadn't died in the night and was feeling well enough to receive guests.

" _I know it's not actual news,"_ Mammá Josefa sighed. " _I just thought you should know."_

I swallowed and nodded. "Thanks. Call me if anything happens."

" _I will. I love you."_

"I...love you too."

* * *

Twelve hours later, I got the second call. It was three in the morning, but I was awake. I had been too worried to sleep.

 _"L-Lovino?"_ She was crying. That was not a good sign.

I sat up, curling my legs closer to my body. "Sí?"

 _"It's not good...his back was severely burned and the d-doctors all say it will s-scar. He's in a c-coma. He hasn't woken up since the a-accident."_

I swore softly as tears pooled in my eyes. All the terrible mental images I had been fighting to keep away now came back, ten times more aggressive than normal. I couldn't prevent them this time. All I could see was my idiotic Spaniard unconscious in a spotless white bed, bandaged and plugged into machines as if he were a computer instead of a human, a monitor counting out the week throbbing of his heart. He looked so delicate, the Antonio in my mind. It was like he was a different person entirely. His skin was no longer that healthy tan, but a faded sickly color. His lips weren't curved into a smile like the usually were, you couldn't see his eyes dance. He looked dead.

"I-is he going to-?"

Mammá Josefa cut me off before I could ask the dreaded question. " _They don't think so,"_ she sounded a little more relieved, and sniffled softly. " _They say that a lot depends on his will to live. They say if he gives up, there is nothing they can do. But he's still fighting, Lovino. He wants to stay with us."_

"He better," I mumbled, running a hand through my hair.

* * *

Francis and Gilbert practically moved in the next day, apologizing for basically leaving me to fend for myself the other day. "What Monsieur Antonio Spokesman forgot to state was that even though he would want us to continue and not wallow in misery, he wouldn't want us to play every man for himself."

Gilbert nodded. "Ja, we're going to make it through this together."

"You two are fucking idiots," I complained, but didn't really protest when they insisted on dragging their suitcases into the house and dumping them on my floor. The truth was, they were all I had right now, and I needed them. Not like I was going to admit that to anyone.

We managed to get by, the three of us. Francis and Gilbert only went to class when they absolutely had to, and when one of us left the house the other two came along. Sometimes Elizabeta showed up, sometimes we managed to get our minds off of the things that bothered us and had a few laughs, sometimes we weakened and ended up crying. Mostly, we just sat around worrying, wondering when the next phone call would come in, asking ourselves what news would come along with it, shouting profanities to the heavens and demanding to know why the hell it had happened to Antonio of all people.

"But think about it," Francis murmured at one point, nursing his glass of wine as his bloodshot blue eyes implored us to listen. "If it had happened to someone else, that poor man's friends, family, and loved ones would be in a state not unlike ours, desperate to know why it had happened to them. Accidents have to happen, they are a part of life. Antonio was just unfortunate enough to be the one it happened to."

I clenched my teeth angrily. "But it didn't have to happen at all, and it sure as hell didn't have to happen to him. He didn't fucking deserve it! Why didn't it happen to some cruel douche who needed justice?"

"Mon ami, if it had happened to another, they would have-"

"I don't give a shit about that. I'm a selfish asshole, alright! I wouldn't have cared if it had happened to someone else! Dio, why couldn't something have happened to me?! That would have been justified!"

Gilbert shifted in his seat nervously. "Lovino, look at it this way: if you were the one in a hospital bed, in a foreign country, and God alone knew for sure if you would make it, Antonio would be in your shoes. He'd be the one crying and shouting and grieving. Right now, he's got it easy. He's asleep right now, he's not in pain, he is blissfully ignorant."

"If that was your way of telling me to let him go, you're fucked up."

"No, I was always the first to say he'd be fine in the end. I'm saying even if something had happened to you, he'd still be no better off than he is now. Antonio's a selfless idiot. He would insist on suffering just because you were."

* * *

"Still nothing?"

" _No."_

"It's been what, a week?"

 _"A little longer. The doctors all say that if he doesn't wake up soon... He might end up with brain damage."_

I sucked in a deep breath, Italian swears falling from my lips. "Where are you?"

 _"I'm in his room, hijo."_

"C-can I talk to him?"

 _"Qué?"_ Mammá Josefa sounded confused. I myself wasn't exactly sure what I was asking.

"Could you put the phone up to his ear, please?" I clarified.

She sniffled. _"Oh, of course..."_ There was a moment of silence and then her voice again, sounding far away. _"Go ahead. He's here...somewhat."_

I took a shaky breath, asked myself what the hell was I even doing, and whispered. "Hey Tonio, it's Lovi...I don't know if you can hear me right now, and it makes me feel completely stupid knowing you might not. But look, you have to wake up. If you don't get your ass out of the clouds soon you could get seriously screwed up. I need you to do your best to get better, okay?" My voice cracked slightly, and I wiped at my eyes furiously.

"Ti amo."

* * *

Days were slow, and to be honest a little pointless. To normal people, Christmas was a time to be celebrating, to come home for the holidays and spend time with the family, laughing and loving without a care in the world.

Not so with us.

The more people trudged back from their respective colleges, the sadder the setting grew. Feliciano and Nonno practically gave up on talking to me about Antonio, because whenever they did I snapped at them like a cornered animal. Francis was anxious, he spent too much time either sulking and weeping on Arthur's shoulders, while the Brit sighed tiredly and ran his hands through his boyfriend's long hair. Gilbert's initial flame of confidence slowly dwindled to nothing. He now looked on the sick side; his already pale skin had grown even paler, causing his red eyes to pop out even more than normal. He became quiet, and when he did talk he was edgy. He and Elizabeta had gotten into too many fierce arguments that week, and some were so bad it had my brother whimpering into Ludwig's shirt, terrified they were going through something like our parents had gone through. I was amazed they hadn't broken up.

Was this what we would become without Antonio, dead, cold, miserable humans. Dio, Feli had been right when he said I needed him. I think we all needed him. The cruel irony of it all was that I realized it when I was so damn close to losing him.

I stopped playing the guitar. Every time I looked at it I ended up crying.

* * *

Finally, the light at the end of the tunnel. It came to a relief to everyone, and I'm sure Nonno was glad the lot of moody, emotional young people found a reason to smile and go home.

We were all moping in the living room, our new favorite past time. Feli and Bella had decorated it earlier, but no one paid the Christmas tree any mind. We were too depressed to think about it. Gilbert wasn't talking to Elizabeta, and Alfred was silent. Ludwig was gently rubbing my brother's back, Bella was looking at me in a way that made me want to lose my shit and yell at her, Kiku sighed often, Matthew was watching the snow fall outside, Francis had fallen asleep from pure exhaustion, collapsed on Arthur's lap.

Nonno walked in awkwardly, shooting us the brightest grin he could muster. "Anyone up for some gelato?" He asked in a vain attempt to brighten the mood.

Gilbert and I growled. Feli sniffled. Kiku sighed. Matthew stared. Bella managed a, "no thanks."

Nonno glanced at us, desperately trying to find a way to get us to smile, told a weak joke no one laughed at, and disappeared into his room.

"Christmas is in five days," Alfred said softly.

"Mmm?" Arthur paused his action of combing his fingers through Francis' hair. "Is it now? I couldn't tell." His words were not sarcastic like they normally were, just deflated.

"I know what you mean. I never thought Christmas could be so depressing," Bella drew her legs closer to her chest and sighed.

Gilbert snorted. "Ja. Remember back when it was the highlight of our entire year? Nothing could possibly go wrong if it was Christmas."

I felt a wave of nostalgia and nodded. "Life was so damn simple back then."

Feli took his face out of Ludwig's chest for once and let out a small, "Ve," of agreement.

"I miss it," Matthew whispered.

"I wonder if we'll ever feel so blissfully free again," Elizabeta wondered aloud.

I rolled my eyes. "Probably not. To be blissful, one must be ignorant. We know too much now. There are too many risks. Life is like a fucking hell, everything we take comfort in can be yanked out of our hands in a second. Jobs end, people die, love is pain, dreams burn. There is no goddamn point! We can try to make things more secure, but in the end we all die alone."

"Well thank you, Lovino. Way to make me start crying again," Francis had woken up and dabbed at his eyes.

"You're fucking welcome. Any other time you want a shitty reality check, just talk to me."

"Are you saying it's not worth it?"

"Huh?"

"Life. Love. Are you saying it is better to have never experienced it because there might be pain involved. Do you mean we're better off not enjoying life as it is because there is a possibility of failure? I think that's what makes them both so beautiful: there is no guarantees. They are temporary. We have to make the best of them."

I pursed my lips in thought. Ludwig said it sounded like poetry. I wouldn't admit it, but Francis was right. Life was unpredictable as fuck, but it wasn't all bad. It had its ups and downs, the straight path where everything is mapped out, and the curves and bends that make you squint and hope you catch a flash of something up ahead. The same went with love. I knew how it felt to feel the pain of rejection, of loneliness. But there was that warm, that unexplainable happiness, the adoration. There was a risk to it, but it was pretty damn worth it.

Gilbert looked over to his girlfriend and managed a small smile. "Hey Liz? Can I talk to you outside for a second?"

She looked up in surprise, shrugged, and slipped off the couch to join him.

Ve~ are they going to make up?" Feliciano asked hopefully.

Ludwig nodded. "Knowing mein Bruder, ja. He doesn't stay mad for long."

Francis smiled and scooted closer to Arthur, who sputtered in a halfhearted indignant protest. "Mon amour, I need comforting," the Frenchman protested, lifting his face hopefully. Arthur sighed in defeat before pecking the offered cheek, causing Francis to squeal happily.

A few minutes later, Elizabeta came back in, all smiles.

"Did something happen?" Francis asked.

The Hungarian's eyes sparkled. "He's on the phone. He seems really excited, I think it might be some good news-"

Suddenly, the door burst open, and the Prussian danced in, leaping up and down and pumping his fist into the air. "Merry Christmas!" He shouted. "It's awesome: ANTONIO'S AWAKE!"

 _ **A/N: Is it just me, or did this week feel super long? Anyway! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, it was rather interesting to write. I'm sure you know the ropes by now: if you liked, please grace me with a review! If you did not….sorry?**_

 _ **Anyway, thank you so very much for every single bit of love you have bestowed upon my undeserving soul! It makes me so very happy whenever I get a new email alert, and it is enough to make me forget about all my petty problems with geometry and annoying teachers!**_

 _ **You guys are**_ _**as awesome as the awesome Prussia!**_

 _ **altera vita mea**_


	22. Chapter 22

_Loving a Stranger_

 _Chapter twenty-two: The Truth Comes Out_

"What do you mean, I can't fucking talk to my own damn boyfriend?!" I shouted. "He's been in a fucking coma for nearly two weeks, he almost died you asshat! I almost lost him and now you're going to tell me I can't even talk to him! What the hell?! Bastard!"

Gilbert shot me an amused look, his lips quirking into a smirk, but there was something about his red eyes that worried the shit out of me. It was almost like a trace of the past two weeks' worry. "You done yet?"

"Like hell I'm done! First I need to finish telling you what a little shit you are! You and Francis got to talk to him and I don't?! That is fucked up!"

"Lovino, I already told you: he was exhausted when we talked to him. Now that he's awake, he's got to deal with shit like all that unawesome pain and the burns on his back. If you want him home for Christmas, you're going to have to give him time to recover."

I huffed and flipped him the bird. "Then you and Francis aren't going to talk to him either, got it bastard?"

"Ja, of course. Brat."

"Dipshit."

Even though I had been more or less forced into "agreeing" to these stupid conditions, it sure as hell did not stop me from trying to bypass the system. I called Mammá Josefa several times and begged her to let me talk to him, but there was an excuse every single goddamn time. _"I'm sorry, Lovino, but he's taking medication for his burns right now." "Antonio is asleep right now." "He was feeling really bad this morning, mi hijo. Lo siento..."_

The only other person I seemed to be allowed to talk to was João- who had actually been at the hospital the entire fucking time. How the hell did I not even know that? "Why won't anyone let me talk to him?" I had demanded, trying using my most commanding voice, but to me it sounded more like a whiny teenaged girl. "Is he really still in a coma and this is a shitty lie to get my hopes up?"

The Portuguese let out a short laugh. _"Nah, he's up. I've seen him myself... once."_

"Why only once? I could have sworn you two were closer than that. Hell, I just found out that when the accident happened you refused to leave him and demanded to go to the hospital with him. So why-?"

 _"He's just...not fully one hundred percent yet,"_ was João's slightly hesitant explanation. _"He's got second degree burns all over his back, and they are giving him hell, and he's been getting frequent headaches, which tend to make him a little grumpy. Have you seen Toni when he gets pissed? He nearly jerked out his I.V. and threw it across the room on one occasion."_

"Mio Dio! That bastard didn't actually hurt himself, did he?"

 _"No, they quickly gave him some sedate that knocked him back out. I think he was frustrated because he was in pain and he couldn't understand what anyone was saying. He's doing a bit better now though."_

"You sure?"

 _"Yeah."_

"Good. Make sure it stays that way, alright?"

 _"You bet. Anything for my little brother's beau."_

I paused. "Wait...brother?"

João chuckled quietly. _"Tragedy bonds people, you know."_

I nodded slowly, thinking about Francis and Gilbert. Damn, if someone had told me a year ago that I would end up being this close to those perverted idiots, I would have laughed in his face. "I know what you mean."

* * *

Christmas Party Preparations

•Food

-Main Dishes: Lovino, Francis, Elizabeta

-Dessert/Drinks: Ludwig, Feliciano, Matthew

•Decorations

-Tree: Lukas, Mathias, Berwald, Gilbert

-Lights/Other: Bella, Emil, Tino, Arthur

-Music: Alfred, Kiku

 _*Note: Do NOT, under any circumstances, allow Arthur in the kitchen! -Francis_

Christmas was tomorrow, but that wasn't the reason why I was smiling uncontrollably as I looked over Ludwig's perfectly typed list. What excited me was the fact that at this very minute, on a plane somewhere between here and Ankara, sat a stupid Spaniard with two weeks worth of slightly unruly brown hair, bright, dancing green eyes, and a beautiful smile. Antonio was coming home. João had sent me a picture from the airport a few hours ago, and even though he was a bit pale and I could see the bandages around his torso through his shirt, it was still my Antonio, and he was still smiling.

That was the reason why I was in such a good mood, why I didn't bother yelling at Ludwig for telling me what to do like I was no more than his pawn in a game of chess. But since it was the Potato Bastard, I couldn't help but grumble choice words about him as I passed the list on to Gilbert.

"This is going to work out very well, Lovino," Francis insisted as he laid a hand on my shoulder. "With the both of us in the kitchen, there is no way this could go wrong!"

I nodded slightly, shoving my hands into the pockets of my sweater. "We still have a hell of a lot of work to do, wine bastard." I looked around the Bonnefoy's living room, which was so large it felt empty. "We need to make this fucking building feel homey, this is a welcome home party, dammit. You don't have one Christmas decoration in the place! And also, we are not making any French food. We're making paella, gazpacho, something with a shit-ton of tomatoes, and if I'm feeling generous maybe a lasagna."

"Aw man!" Alfred complained as he crumpled up his McDonald's wrapper and tossed it at the side of Arthur's head, ignoring the angry, "Sod off, Wanker!" "Can't we have something more American? Maybe some turkey, or ham, or a really badass blue cake! Mattie, you can at least make the cake, right?"

Before Matthew was forced into making something so atrocious, I quickly intervened- for Kiku wasn't the only one who grew sick at the thought of a fucking blue cake. "Hell no. They're going to make decent desserts, right?" I asked, glaring at my brother.

Feli nodded his head up and down. "Sí! I was thinking we could make some churros too! Ve~! I know they wouldn't be as amazing as Ms. Carriedo's are, but it will give big brother Tonio a taste of home."

"Good. Because that is the whole damn point."

I glanced around the room, just barely catching the weird look Francis and Gilbert exchanged. "What the hell is wrong with you two bastards?" I demanded. Francis jumped, but didn't make eye contact with me as he muttered a "rien."

Gilbert simply turned to where the Scandinavians were standing and smirked. "Ready to chop down the biggest, awesomest tree in the entire forest?"

Mathias grinned and gave the other an enthusiastic thumbsup. "I was born ready! Lukas and I brought over some axes and saws, and Berwald has his truck, so let's-"

Lukas grabbed his boyfriend by the arm before he could walk out. "Idiot. There are things we need to do before we go stampeding through the woods, you know."

"Uh, really?"

Berwald nodded curtly and gestured around the room. "We need to take measurements first."

In another corner, Bella was waving for Arthur. "Come on! We need your help too!" The Brit complied, sending Francis a murderous look while muttering, "Stupid Frog, kicking me out of the kitchen. My cooking tastes just fine."

Alfred and Kiku were already on the couch pouring over their collections of music on their phones, the American would often beam and exclaim, "Ooh! I like this one!" and would show it to the other, who usually frowned slightly and said that it didn't necessarily fit the mood. Feli was waving his arms excitedly while Ludwig wrote down yet another list and Matthew nodded to whatever my little brother was saying.

I was about to grab a certain Frenchman by his hair and insist on knowing why he had been exchanging those stupid, worried looks with his friend, but Elizabeta was already upon us, suggesting that we take a look in the kitchen to see what ingredients were available. The two of us agreed and trudged into the other room, where I tried to calm myself down once again.

 _I'm probably just paranoid,_ I thought. _Everything is fine._

* * *

"How close are you guys?" I asked, balancing my phone between my cheek and my shoulder as I opened the oven and pulled out the lasagna.

João paused for a second, asked someone on the other end a question, and then answered. " _According to Toni, we should be there in about ten minutes."_

My heart was pounding so rapidly I almost dropped the platter on my foot. Luckily, Elizabeta was nearby and took it and the potholders right out of my hands and set it on the counter alongside the rest of the food we had slaved all morning over. "Grazie," I mumbled to her, before cupping my hand over the phone.

"Oi Bastards! They're going to be here in ten minutes! Finish getting all your last minute shit together now!" Those who were close enough to hear my announcement dashed off to spread the news, the call was repeated several times as final details were thrown together.

Those who had been assigned to decorating had really pulled a miracle; the extensive kitchen and living room now looked much more welcoming and cozy, and the idea Bella and Emil had about stringing lights around the pillars was a nice touch. The tree was massive and proud, thankfully Gilbert and Mathias hadn't broken all the ornaments, and under it lay a sea of brightly wrapped gifts. I could barely even see the red and yellow paper covering the guitar case from here. Holiday music was gently playing in the background, some soft and calming, others with slightly faster beats. The food was pretty much all prepared, and was accompanied by amazing looking desserts- who the fuck would have thought the Potato Bastard could bake- and carefully chosen beverages and wines.

The only issue was Arthur had created yet another batch of scones the night before and insisted on bringing them, and no amount of cursing on my part or coaxing on Francis' could convince him to take them back. Aside from that, it was perfect.

"Alright. I think we're pretty much ready," I told the person on the phone decidedly.

" _Boa. We'll see you soon."_

"Hurry the hell up."

" _We would, but Antonio's directions are a bit confusing….and we missed our turn…."_ I could hear Antonio's apologetic, " _Lo siento"_ in the background, and smiled a bit.

Just a few more minutes….

" _Oh, and also, would it be too much to ask if you could talk to either me or Mãe Josefa as soon as we get there? It's really important."_

My brows furrowed nervously as I leaned against the counter. More people were showing up, almost as many as those who had been present at the going away party, and things were starting to get loud. "Why can't you tell me now?" I asked, wondering what could possibly be so serious.

João was hesitant for a second, then sighed. " _Just...talk to one of us, alright?"_

"You're fucking scaring the shit out of me."

" _Sorry...I- oh! I think this is the house! Damn it's huge!"_

I could hear Antonio in the background again, this time asking, " _Wait...how do you know this is where Francis lives?"_

João laughed. " _Well, there's a giant sign that says 'Welcome Home, Antonio' in the front yard. Do you know of any other Antonios coming home today?"_

I hung up and shoved the phone into my pocket, letting the others know that he was here. Feli bounded in from the other room and engulfed me in a huge hug. "Oh fratello! Aren't you excited! Ve~! You're shaking!"

"I'm scared," I whimpered, catching yet another weird look from Francis as he dashed to the front door. "They're acting shifty."

Feliciano glanced behind him to see what I was talking about, but saw nothing but a mob of people crowding around the door. "Ve~ I think you're imagining things. I haven't noticed anything…"

I rolled my eyes. "That's because you never read the atmosphere, idiota. I'm sure if you were to ask Kiku he'd say there was something up."

My brother laughed and squeezed my hands encouragingly. "Everything is fine, Lovino. Don't worry! Dai! I'm sure big brother Tonio wants to see you!"

Before he could pull me toward the crowd, I yanked my hands away. "No, I'm supposed to talk to Mammá Josefa or João first…"

"ANTONIO!" I heard Francis and Gilbert exclaim, followed by a familiar, "Hola, mis amigos! It's been so long!" And then I could hear the Frenchman bursting into dramatic sobs as he cried, "You're alive! Tu es en vie!"

Feliciano stared back at me with confused amber eyes. "Ve~? But why?"

"Alright!" Gilbert laughed. "Everyone move your asses out of the way and let the awesome Toni in! And be careful with his back, okay?"

"Ahahaha! Gracias Gilbert! Tú es muy agradable."

"Ja, whatever. I'm awesome, but don't expect special treatment every time you get hurt."

My heart started pounding even harder as the voices drew nearer, and I wasn't sure if I was supposed to stay where I was or run- either to him or far away. "Why?" Feli asked again, lightly pulling on my arm.

"I...I don't fucking know!" I hissed. "But they're acting weird as hell, and I don't know what the fuck they're hiding, and it is freaking me out!" I felt like an animal trapped in a corner, surrounded by strong men pointing guns to my head. My emotions were a mixture of confusion, terror, panic, and anger. Just what was going on?

Everyone out there was talking to my boyfriend, and their words were beginning to merge into a throng of chaos. I strained my ears to search for his comforting voice to suddenly ask, "Where is Lovi?" But for some reason, I never did hear it.

Feli had decided he had had enough of my weird behavior, and tightening his grip on my hand, dragged me toward the others. I swore and tried to pull away, attempted to explain what I myself did not understand, begged and pleaded, but my little brother is an unreasonable bastard.

Too late, I was thrown in front of Antonio, trembling with a genuine fear of the unknown. I could hear Francis, Gilbert, João, Mammá Josefa, and even Francisco murmuring worriedly, and mio Dio it was scaring my almost more than Antonio's sudden silence.

I looked up slowly, only to see that those green eyes weren't even looking at me, but at my brother. "Hola Feliciano! I didn't even see you there!" There was a smile that wasn't directed at me, and an awkward nothing from everyone else.

I knew what they were thinking: _Did he really just ignore Lovino? What the fuck is going on?_

Now I was getting pissed. "Bastard!" I growled, the threatening rage in my voice succeeded in getting his thick skull out of the clouds as he glanced at me and….

Blinked once, twice.

Furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

Scratched the back of his head nervously and opened his mouth. "Uh….Lo siento...Do I know you?"

 _ **A/N: And its here! I know most of you have been expecting this chapter for some time, and you probably know me enough by now to figure out that I'd make an evil cliffhanger, so...I should probably just leave before you come after me with your pitchforks and kitchen utensils… But this chapter is up early because I'll be out of town Thursday...yeah…**_

 _ ***Slowly crawls off stage* But look! *points excitedly to the number of reviews on this Story* Thank you so very much! I'll leave now…**_

 _ **altera vita mea**_


	23. Chapter 23

_Loving a Stranger_

 _Chapter twenty three: Panic_

The silence was unbearable: for in it I could practically hear everyone's thoughts. The five who had known something of this all along, the ones who had had the audacity to fucking hide it from me, were remorseful, asking themselves if they should have told me before, for even so it would have been better than learning it the hard way. Behind me, Feliciano was confused by Antonio's change, and was looking to Ludwig- who for once had no answers either.

Everyone else; Bella, Alfred, Kiku, Mathias, Lukas, Elizabeta, Arthur, all of them, were in shock, they were wondering if they had correctly heard what they thought had been spoken. _Had Antonio just asked if he knew Lovino? Of course he knows him, he's only been pursuing him for about two years. Ever since senior year there was rarely one without the other. I thought they were going out now. Why is Antonio acting like he doesn't even know him?_

Speaking of the bastard, he was now staring at me intensely, not with his retarded, kind of endearing look of adoration, but more like someone who was trying to pull forgotten facts out of the deep recesses of their mind. "Oh!" He suddenly smiled and snapped his fingers. "I remember now! You were in my English class, right?"

My eyes widened in horror. _What the hell?!_ I was losing it, my breath was coming out in angry huffs, and my eyes watered as my fists clenched so tightly my nails were digging into my skin. I wanted nothing more that to punch him right in his perfect face. "What the fuck are you playing at?!" I demanded. "I'm….we...you fucking bastard!"

 _I'm your boyfriend! I'm the asshole you were stupid enough to chase around, fully aware of what a little shit I am. I'm the one you reserved all your retarded suave pickup lines on, the one you continued going after even though I pushed you away time and time again. I'm the one who's walls you slowly, rather discreetly tore down and somehow got me to fall in love...with you. And you loved me of all people. How could all that be compressed into 'the kid from English class'?_

Antonio had always been a terrible liar. He would try to trick someone, but all it would take was a look into his eyes and everyone could just see something in those green irises that gave him away. I searched his eyes frantically for that spark to let me know it was just a stupid ass joke he was trying to pull on me. I would have welcomed it. If he was trying to mess with me he would have gotten away with a half-hearted slap to his face before I forgave him and kissed him with all I had in me.

There was no such luck, however. All I saw was his confusion, sincerity, and apologetic emotions. The truth dawned on me: he honestly didn't remember anything. To him, I was just a rude, slightly amusing junior in Schwanbeck's English class, arguing my views over Romeo and Juliet.

I shook my head slowly, staring at him for a second longer before I pushed past everyone, making sure the front door slammed shut behind me. Tears were streaming down my face as I blindly groped the driveway for my car, silently hoping life would spare me the burden and let me freeze to death right there. It would serve me right for marching out into the snow with just a lousy sweater.

hy didn't he know who I was? Had all those memories we had made together somehow been snatched right out of his head? I mean, I knew he had been in a coma, and I guess Mammá Josefa had at one point warned me that there might be some brain damage, but... I had never thought that shit would actually happen. I had thought that Dio would see how much the two of us had suffered already and would finally let us be happy, but that wasn't the case. Of course it wasn't- good people deserved happiness. It was people like me who were dished out a life of hell, and who brought everyone else along with them. Why did he have to forget me? From what I could tell he didn't have that problem with anyone else, I hadn't seen him point at any of the others and say, "you were in this class with me, right?" No, it was just me. I was the one who had been erased from his memory.

"Lovino, you have to get up."

The words caused me to jump slightly, bringing me back to reality. Why the hell was I sitting in the fucking snow? I was going to get so sick- hopefully I'd die of hypothermia.

"Lovino!" The voice was louder this time, and a hand seemed to materialize out of nowhere, hovering in the air right in front of my face. I realized I was supposed to grab on to it.

Somewhat in a daze, I stretched out my hand and allowed the other to pull me out of the snow, slowly noticing that the hand was actually attached to a body with lime green eyes and short brown hair tied into a stupid, tiny ponytail. "They weren't exaggerating when they told me how you reacted in a crisis," the owner of the hand said softly. "You almost completely shut down on me."

I suddenly recognized João and snatched my hand back, somehow resisting the urge to punch him in the nose. "Y-you! I f-fucking hate you, b-bastard! H-how could you have k-known that he has a-amnesia and then fucking k-kept it from m-me?!" I was trying to look as pissed off as I really felt, but I was standing in at least a foot of snow, freezing my ass off, and crying like a baby. My voice cracked embarrassingly at nearly every other word, my teeth kept chattering, and I had to continuously sniffle. It lost a lot of power.

João was actually looking at me rather sympathetically, which was not my intention, and shrugged out of his large coat. "Take this. You look half-frozen," he said, handing it to me.

"F-fuck off." But I ended up accepting it and throwing it over my trembling shoulders, attempting to deliver my infamous death glare at the bastard.

"Look, Lovino. I'm really sorry about everything," he stated, absently kicking at the snow. "I swear that's not how we wanted you to find out. We originally wanted to tell you as soon as we found out, but those friends of his flipped out enough- and it's not like Antonio forgot everything concerning them...so we thought it would be better to tell you in person."

I hiccuped. "What bullshit that turned out to be."

The Portuguese offered me a weak smile before glancing around the parking lot. "Where's your car? I'll drive you home and call someone to pick me up. One would be an idiot to let an emotional wreak like you on the roads."

"I'm n-not an e-emotional- fucking dammit! I-it's right there." I threw my keys at him and wiped feebly at my eyes as I stalked off to my vehicle, opening the passenger door and throwing myself inside. João followed a few seconds later, rubbed his hands, and started the ignition. Things were fairly quiet, with me only giving lame directions until I realized something.

"Wait a fucking second. How the hell does he remember you?"

João was silent for a second, his fingers tightening on the steering wheel as he released a deep breath. "He doesn't."

I stared at him blankly. Well, it did make sense, I knew Antonio before he did, but this guy hadn't muttered a word about it. "I-"

"It's probably a good thing if he doesn't remember what happened over there," he shook his head as if to rid his mind of some terrible memory. "And he doesn't totally ignore me, but yeah, I'm almost in the same boat as you. I finally came to think of him as my brother and then he doesn't even know my name."

I pursed my lips and stayed quiet for a few minutes tracing the patterns of my scars through my jeans. They were already giving me hell, and I knew the temptation would be a hundred times worse when I got home. I jerked my hands away and crossed them against my chest protectively, forcing my attention to the guy next to me.

Out of everyone, he understood me the most; maybe I could forgive him. He had probably only been attempting to save me from the kind of shock he had received when he had found out. "What happened exactly?" I asked.

João sighed. "We were evacuating a town and...Antonio heard that someone had been left behind. So he ran back so he could get this kid, and I guess he was too close to an exploding building," he shook his head. "Would you believe the boy got out almost scratch free? Antonio risked his life, made himself a human shield, and saved a little kid."

My eyes were watering again: yes, I could believe it. Antonio was so compassionate and selfless- it didn't matter if he didn't even know the person, he'd give the very shirt off his back in the middle of a fucking blizzard if they needed it. And it didn't help that he had always had a weakness for cute things: children, animals- especially baby animals, and apparently me. Of course he would almost get himself killed going after a kid.

"He's such a fucking idiot."

* * *

"Oh, hello João...I didn't know you were- Lovino! What happened?" Nonno gaped at me as I trudged into the house, sniffling and shivering. Ignoring him, I turned to João and told him to take my car back, asking if he knew the way.

He nodded hesitantly. "Yeah, I have a good sense of direction: I won't get lost. But will you be okay?" I lied straight through me teeth and told him I was tired anyway, and he finally left, not after giving me several concerned looks and repeating, "Are you sure?" fifty fucking times.

The second he left my grandfather had the door closed and his arms outstretched. I don't know why, it seemed like something Feliciano would do, but I collapsed into those inviting arms and started bawling my eyes out all over again. I guess since I apparently didn't have Antonio anymore I needed someone to take my crap. Nonno gently combed his fingers through my hair and whispered to me in Italian until I was able to walk to my bedroom, where he sat me on the bed.

"What happened?" He asked worriedly, squeezing me while I hiccuped tiredly.

"A-Anton-nio h-has a-amnesia and he d-doesn't rememb-ber m-me," I whimpered into his shoulder.

Nonno paused in his hair-combing and stared at me in shock. "Antonio what?"

I rubbed at my eyes and sniffled. "H-he-"

The words caught in my throat and I made some weird choking noise that seemed to be a combination of a sob and a cough. Then I simply hacked my lungs out, burying my face in my sleeve. Dio, I was already getting sick, wasn't I? Just fucking fantastic.

Nonno patted my back gently and cleared his throat. "You were out in the snow without a coat, weren't you?"

"M-maybe."

He sighed softly and stood up. "I'll make you something warm to eat. You go take a relaxing shower and we can talk once you've calmed down, alright?"

I started to nod, but then jerked my head up in realization. "A s-shower?"

"Sí. It will help get rid of your chills, and maybe you won't get so sick."

I took a deep breath and nodded as he walked out. Of course it would help; I needed to warm myself up. But...the bathroom and a shitty emotional state were not a good combination, I could testify to that. Neither was illness and a shitty emotional state. I'd be in fucking hell no matter what I did.

With a defeated sigh I climbed off my bed and trudged into the bathroom yet again. Why did that room always look like the devil's lair when I felt like this: dark and eery. It whispered temptations in my ear when all I really wanted was to take a damn shower and get the hell out of there. _You need this,_ it urged. _You need the control. You need the power. Do you see how weak you are? You couldn't stop any of this. You couldn't stop yourself from falling in love again, and look at you now: forgotten and pathetic. What can you even do for yourself? You can cut, cut away the pain until you're numb, until you hit an artery, until you bled to death. It'd be another problem out of the fucking way_.

I hated the goddamn bathroom! I didn't want this, but it seemed to take control of me, my legs quivered and practically screamed for the release of pressure, of blood, of the pain. My body moved itself to the closet in search for my blade, my arms raised as my hands groped the top shelf and found what I was looking for. I then removed my pants and sunk to the floor, desperately positioning the edge of the blade against the creamy skin of my thigh.

That was when the front door slammed shut and my brother's frantic voice filled the house. "Ve~ Nonno! Is Lovino home?"

Our grandfather's faint voice could be heard from the kitchen. "Sí. He's quite worked up. I sent him to take a shower-"

"HE'S IN THE BATHROOM?!"

"Shit," I grumbled, leaping to my feet and pulling up my pants, tossing the blade into the laundry basket in the corner just as my younger brother threw the bathroom door open, key in hand.

"Fratello, I am so sorry!" He panted, rushing to my side to embrace me. "I had no idea, I swear! Are you okay? You didn't hurt yourself, did you?" Without waiting for me to respond he yanked my jeans down for inspection. Don't get me wrong, the bastard and I have been open with each others bodies since we were toddlers sharing a bathtub and it wasn't uncommon for us to walk around the house half naked, but this was an invasion of privacy.

"Feliciano! Fuck off!" I demanded, pushing him away with one hand and once again pulling my clothes back up.

He hung back a few feet and wrung his hands nervously, tilting his head down in a small pout. "Ve~ sorry...I was just worried Fratello..."

I sighed, and lowered my voice. "I know. I just-" my eyes started watering for the fortieth time that day, and my voice wavered as I sunk back the the floor, wrapping my arms around my knees. "You were right," I murmured into the crooks of my elbows. I fucking need him. But now he doesn't need me, and I'm f-fucking losing it. Feli, I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to do anymore."

My brother sat down and enveloped me in a tight hug, his soft "ve," gently blowing in my ear.

"I should have fucking known! I knew I couldn't go through another goddamn heartbreak, but I ended up trusting Antonio. He probably would have stayed with me too, but then this shit has to happen! I can't do this..."

Feliciano nodded. "But he might remember again," he suggested. "Everyone is hopeful of that: Tonio himself knows he's forgotten things, and he and everyone else will work as hard as they can to bring them back, I know they will."

"But what if he doesn't? What if he never figures out who I am and I end up having to sit there and watch him fall in love with someone else. Dio, I wouldn't be able to handle that! I'd end up doing something rash..." _Like commit seppuku with a kitchen knife for example._

"You're overthinking, Fratello."

"I'm being fucking reasonable."

Feli sighed slightly. "What about what Francis said? Didn't you agree with him when he said that love was worth the pain?"

"I changed my mind. The pain is killing me. I would have rather become a hermit chef living alone for the rest of my shitty life and chasing bastard children off my damn lawn."

"I don't know if you honestly mean that."

"Well I do. So there."

"You're lying."

"Shut the fuck up."

* * *

Half and hour later found me curled up in bed, enjoying the fresh tomato soup Nonno had made even though its heat burned my damn tongue. I had managed to survive a shower thanks to Feli, and now I was bundled in as many thick warm blankets that could be wasted on me. My brother had explained what had happened to our grandfather, and he then left to call Ludwig with a reason for his sudden disappearance. "Ve~ don't worry. I won't tell him anything he shouldn't know," he assured me.

Nonno was now perched on the edge of my bed, shifting his weight nervously and fiddling with his half tied tie. "Weren't you supposed to be at some Christmas party with your job?" I asked him.

He looked up at me in surprise, then smiled ever so softly. "Being a grandfather is my first job, Lovino."

The words were so simple, yet they almost brought tears to my eyes again. Instead, I engulfed another spoonful of soup and succeeded in burning my tongue even more.

"What do you want to do?" Nonno asked.

"About Antonio?"

"Sí."

I paused thoughtfully. "I want to try to forget that I was ever stupid enough to fall in love a second time," I said slowly. "I want to go to Florence and get my ass through culinary school, I want to open my own restaurant, I want to spend the rest of my life in a passion that won't turn around and stab me in the chest."

"That's what you want, mio nipote?"

"Yeah."

"That will make you happy?"

"It sure as hell will make me happier than I am now."

"Then I'll see what I can do."

I did get sick, but it wasn't as bad as I had thought it would be. I ended up simply lying in bed coughing and crying for a day. When I was able to get up, I found a piece of paper on my dresser. I picked it up, and scanned over it. It was a one way plane ticket to Florence Italy.

And the flight was tomorrow.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Oh my gossshhhhhh! This story has a hundred +1 reviews! *Spazzes out from shock* Never in a million years did I ever expect to get this far! I would always look at other authors with triple digits following their story title and say, "Wow...I wish that could be me…" AND IT IS! Thank you! Thank you all so much! I am so honored, believe me.**_

 _ **You guys...you're seriously awesome. I know I say that a lot, but it's so true!**_

 _ **altera vita mea**_


	24. Chapter 24

_Loving a Stranger_

 _Chapter twenty four: Tell a Story_

They were the average elderly couple: he was clad in a pair of thick glasses and a plaid shirt, and she was wearing a floral print dress and had her silver hair in short curls. They were the type to zone in on the youth with rather personal questions and somehow managed to posses more insight than one would think. The only thing was that I was the one they decided to talk to. "You look like someone who has lost something very dear to them," the lady pointed out, reaching over her purse to place a wrinkled hand on my knee.

I glanced up at the pair in surprise: I knew my eyes were red and I looked like shit, but I hadn't expected anyone to notice. "I'm not-"

Her husband was already eyeing me curiously. "Heartbreak, I'd say," he murmured. "I know the feeling, my boy, but don't give up quite yet. It'll be worth it soon."

I somehow managed to hide my watering eyes with a well placed frown. I almost wanted to tell them off, but how the hell could I when I could practically hear Antonio gushing about how cute old couples were? "It's not like that at all," I lied, even though neither of them looked convinced. "My brother's sick." That wasn't a complete lie: Antonio might not be my brother, but he was obviously sick in the head.

She gasped slightly, while he cocked his head to the side. "He's in Italy?"

I gulped. "Uh...no, he's here..."

"And you're leaving him?" She asked.

"He doesn't need me."

The gentleman shook his balding head in a disapproving manner. "If he's sick, he needs you more than ever. And I have a feeling you need him too."

Now that was as creepy as fuck, for it sounded almost exactly like what my actual brother had told me the day before when he caught me packing my bags. "Lovino, you can't go!" He had all but shrieked, his face sheet white.

I had scoffed at him. "I fucking can and I will."

Feli had shook his head, his amber eyes begging me to listen. "But what about Tonio?"

My eyes had flashed dangerously as my heart gave a painful contraction. "He sure as hell doesn't need me."

"Ve~! Yes he does!"

"Feliciano, he doesn't even know my goddamn name! No, he does not need me!"

"But you need us!" He had wailed. "You're upset and irrational, Fratello! What will happen when you fall into depression? You're depressed right now! I can't-"

I had gritted my teeth and slammed a suitcase shut. "I think it's about fucking time I become independent. I can't lean on people, because they have a tendency to forget about me and leave me to fall on my damn face."

Feliciano had tried once more, placing a hand on my shoulder. "But that comes in steps Lovino. You can't just plunge out of the nest without knowing how to fly! You'll get yourself killed!"

 _Maybe that's how it should be,_ I had thought to myself. But I didn't tell him that: I couldn't. So I had ended up not listening to him and eventually found myself sitting in the uncomfortably cheap airport chairs talking to a couple with way too much perception.

I opened my mouth to give them some lameass reply, when I suddenly thought I heard my name faintly over the soft roar of busy lives around me. My ears perked suspiciously as I sat up straighter and scanned the crowd for someone I knew. All I could see were the faces of unfamiliar people going about their business. I turned back around and rolled my eyes at myself. _So this is what losing one's damn sanity feels like, constantly depressed and paranoid as shit. Welcome to your new fucking life Lovino! I guess it's only a matter of time before I start hallucinating and get fucked up sleeping disorders._

"Lovino!"

I frowned. There it was again. I twisted back around in my chair and searched for the source of the voice. The crowd shifted a little, and I caught a glimpse of Feliciano, who was glancing between the gate number and something in his hand. My eyebrows furrowed as I slowly stood up, squinting my eyelids as if to find out if I was seeing things.

Turns out the image of my brother didn't fade away like I had half expected it to, instead it drew nearer, looking behind him to say something to...the fucking Bad Touch Trio. He had brought all of them- even the idiotic one with memory problems, the one who had unintentionally caused fucking everything. Just glancing at him from afar sent an acute pang to my heart that felt like I had been stabbed right in the goddamn chest, and panic swirled around in my head, strongly suggesting that I run to the nearest plane boarding right now and jump in. But I held my ground because I felt like a fucking deer in the headlights: paralyzed.

And just my luck, my brother's gaze eventually landed on me, and he let out a loud squeal and nearly ran over five different people until he bulldozed right into me with so much force I almost fell over. "Ve~ Lovi I'm so glad you're here I thought for sure we'd be too late!" He sobbed. _"Non si può andare Fratello,_ please listen to me or if not listen to Francis and Gilbert they have very valid points too!"

I was trying and failing to get over my trembling as I cleared my throat. "Feli," I said in a low tone. "Why the hell is he here?" I didn't mention names, but I didn't have to; he knew exactly who I was talking about.

"He was with the others when I called...I'm sorry I couldn't-"

"Lovino!" The others finally caught up, and Gilbert stepped forward, staring at me intensely while my brother backed off to talk to Antonio. "What the fuck are you doing, bro?" He asked a little sternly, reminding me of how strangely in charge he could be when he wanted. Francis slung an arm around my shaking shoulders and nodded. _"Oui_. What are you even thinking?"

"I'm thinking everything will be fucking better like this," I reasoned. "In case you bastards haven't realized, my damn boyfriend doesn't even remember who the fuck I am! So I'm doing the only shit I know how to do: run away. He doesn't fucking need me anyway."

Gilbert looked at me like I was crazy. "Now that's a bunch of unawesome, lying shit," he pronounced. "We're trying to get Toni to remember everything, and do you want to know what word would describe his entire life after junior year? Chasing after Lovino."

"That's three words, fucking idiot," I interrupted.

"Correcting the awesome me is unawesome," he rolled his eyes. "And it's not my point. My awesome point is that there is no one but you who can help him, and you can't just abandon him like this because you're scared! That's unawesome!"

I clenched my fists. "I can't fucking do anything!"

Francis nodded encouragingly. "Yes you can, mon ami. You may not know it, but you still have an affect on him. He might not recall up here," he tapped his head softly. "But in his heart he still loves you Lovino. He just needs to realize it."

I huffed and brushed his arm off me, shyly sneaking a glance at the guy who only a month ago proudly pronounced us boyfriends. He was smiling at something Feli had said, but there was something missing in his green eyes. They weren't dancing anymore.

I blinked as realization slapped me in the face. _Idiot!_ It screamed. _You fucking idiot! Antonio has been there throughout all the shit you've pulled, he's seen you at nearly your worst, and comforted you when you were being fucking irrational like always. Then he has one issue of his own and what the hell do you do? You run away. What kind of selfish bastard are you?!_

I shook my head at myself. "Dammit, I almost fucked up."

Gilbert bit back a laugh. "Almost? Lovino this is by far the most fucked up you've ever-"

Feliciano interrupted by stepping forward curiously. "Have you changed your mind?" He asked.

I nodded. "Yeah. Nonno's gonna kill me for wasting all that money, but what the hell."

"I have a feeling he'll be happy you've seen the light," Francis commented.

I wiggled out of the group before they started hugging or some weird shit like that, and turned to grab my bag. "He's the one, isn't he?"

I jumped and stared at the elderly lady from before, who was looking at the group knowingly. "Huh?"

She glanced at me with amusement hiding in her eyes. "I told you before you looked like someone who had lost something, and my intuition hasn't been wrong- ever. The one you lost is the tall brown-haired boy, isn't it?"

My eyes widened as I gawked at her in shock. "H-how did you-"

Her husband shook his head as if he was in wonder as well. "I still don't know how she does it," he informed me. "But don't worry. He'll come around."

That was when I corrected the Antonio is my head: no, old couples were not cute. They were fucking creepy psychics.

* * *

 _You're doing the right thing,_ I told myself for the millionth time, tightening my grip on the basket as I lifted one hand and rang the doorbell. _He would have done the same for you, hell even more, if you were in his situation._

I waited for a few seconds and rang again. J _ust calm the fuck down and stop shaking. It's not like he's a different person._

The door opened widely, revealing Antonio's mother, who instantly engulfed me in a huge hug and murmured what seemed to be a thousand apologies as she ushered me inside. "You really don't have to do this," she said, brushing a loose strand of graying hair- it had been quickly changing colors ever since the accident- behind her ear.

I shook my head, trying to look more firm in my resolve than I actually felt. "I want to, Mammá. He needs me."

Mammá Josefa had missed quite a bit of work in the past couple of weeks, and she had to catch up- the only thing was she was nervous about leaving Antonio alone. Everyone else was busy plotting how to get his memory back, so therefore, I volunteered as babysitter. Well, it was more like Feli, Francis, and Gilbert begged/harassed me until I gave in, but whatever. Point is, I was there.

Mammá Josefa smiled at me and called me a sweetheart, before she grabbed her belongings. "Just make sure he gets his bandages changed at two," she instructed as she was halfway out the door. She then turned back around to plant a kiss on both of my cheeks before dashing off to the living room to give a similar farewell to her son. Then she was gone.

There was an odd silence for a couple seconds, and then I heard the strings of a familiar guitar begin to play. It made me smile just a little as I set my basket of freshly picked tomatoes on the counter. Looks like he at least got my gift, and he seemed to like it. Good, I've done something right in my life. I stayed in the kitchen- I always felt more comfortable in a kitchen- and listened to him play for a few minutes, listening to the rise and fall of the music, the progressions, the passion he put into it. Then all of a sudden the music changed. It suddenly slowed down and morphed into a different song entirely, one that caused my body to stiffen in recognition. He was playing our song...

Tears welled up in my eyes and I nearly collapsed on the table, trying to compose myself before I lost it. But there were so many emotions and memories tied in with every chord or note that was played it drove me crazy. I could remember the countless hours I had spent in this very house working on that song, eating churros and tomatoes, "studying" for classes(aka me attempting to study while Antonio "accidentally" distracted me with his constant chatter and hands that couldn't keep to themselves.) I could picture the siestas we ended up taking when we were too tired and lazy to continue being productive, how Antonio almost always managed to pin me down on the bed to prevent me from escaping while he slept. "Dammit Tomato Bastard!" I would shout. "Get the fuck off me!"

He would giggle and rest his head on my chest. "I don't want to," he'd murmur sleepily. "Lovi is comfy. I think I can sleep right here."

"No you won't, bastard!" I would demand. "I'm not your damn pillow. If you do not get your big ass self off me right this fucking second, I will yank out every single fucking hair on your head!"

Of course, he wouldn't listen to me, in fact he would start pretending to snore. I'd growl and grab a fistful of wild brown curls to pull, but I would suddenly get distracted by how damn soft his hair was. I'd loosen my grip and slowly run my fingers through it in enchantment: it felt like silk.

Antonio would purr his content and tilt his head closer. "Ah, I like that Lovi! It's so soothing!" And in a few minutes he would really be sleeping.

The song reminded me of the very first time his lips had touched mine, and all the dozens of other occasions following, it told me stories of a once happy couple who danced a fairytale like dance in an empty hotel ballroom. It was a testimony of everything we used to have. It was sad, yet at the same time there was a tiny ounce of hope. Maybe...maybe Francis had been right. Maybe there was a locked up part of Antonio that still remembered these untold stories, the love we had shared...just maybe...

"Er...Lovino? Are you okay?" I lifted my tear streaked face to the worried looking Spaniard in the doorway. He was concerned, but he didn't know how to respond to someone he didn't really know, and kept to standing off to the side rather awkwardly. "You did say your name is Lovino, right?"

I nodded slowly and wiped at my eyes. "I'm fucking fine," I grumbled.

He eyed me strangely before sitting down at the table beside me, staring at the tomatoes thoughtfully. "Take one, bastard. I picked them from my garden this morning." Antonio glanced up at me and smiled. "Gracias!" He said as he quickly reached for a fruit as if to do so before I changed my mind, munching on it appreciatively.

"So...you have a tomato garden?" Antonio asked after a few seconds of awkward silence. His green eyes flicked over to me curiously, making me want to melt into the floor.

"Uh huh..." I mumbled, nervously bouncing my right leg under the table as I reached for my own tomato and took a huge bite out of it.

The Spaniard next to me laughed. "I thought I was the only one who ate them like that!" He said, resting an elbow on the table and cocking his head towards me in interest as he finished off his fruit. "That's so cool! _Es casi como que estábamos destinados a encontrarnos."_

I knew I wasn't supposed to understand that last sentence, but fuck it wasn't my fault he had forgotten that I knew Spanish. I almost started choking on my tomato, but somehow I managed to mask it in a quiet cough and a nod of feigned disinterest. But apparently, he wasn't finished talking nonsense.

"You know," he said slowly. "I never got to apologize for the other day. I'm sorry for, well...everything...for forgetting..."

I bit my lip and shrugged, trying to find a way to change the subject. "Whatever. I uh...how did you know that song?"

Antonio hummed softly and rubbed the back of his head. "Which one?"

"T-the last one you played, idiota."

It was his turn to shrug. "No se. I just knew it- muscle memory I think. But I feel like it's missing something... I can't put my finger on it but it just sounded off..."

I sighed slightly and stood up. "Maybe because it's supposed to be a duet."

* * *

The day was pretty normal: well, as normal as a day with my boyfriend who had forgotten the fact that he was my boyfriend could be. We talked some, watched a movie, I made lunch and Antonio literally obsessed over it- dammit it was just a simple pasta salad, crazy bastard. Everything was fine up until it was time to change his bandages.

I was fortunate that Mammá Josefa had left a detailed list on the procedure of dealing with his burns, because Antonio was close to no help and sounded too unsure to be believable. The first step written on the paper was to wash my hands. Simple enough.

I left Antonio in the living room after ordering him to make himself useful and take off his shirt before I walked into the bathroom, rolling up my sleeves as I carefully completed step number one. The next thing on the list was to gently wash the burns and to not use cold water. I grabbed a washcloth and a small bucket from the closet and located the antibiotic ointment, wrappings, and gauze. I filled up the bucket with slightly warm water and poured a bit of the specialized soap the list demanded I used before I grabbed it and carried it outside, carefully trying to keep myself from tripping and sloshing water all over myself.

"Alrighty, bastardo. Let's get this-"

The words slowly died on my tongue as I beheld a sight I never even thought I would see. Antonio, always happy, constantly smiling, was hunched over on the couch with his hands covering his face, soft sobs gently shaking his shoulders. I nearly dropped the bucket on my foot.

"A-Antonio?" I cleared my throat and set the bucket down on the coffee table. He instantly jumped and raised his head, and seeing tears in eyes that were made to sparkle and dance made my stomach churn. "L-lo siento," he murmured instantly, rubbing his eyes with the back of his sleeve. "I didn't mean for you to see that. I'll take off my shirt now..."

I frowned slightly and took a deep breath. "Wait."

Antonio froze, his fingers tightening nervously at the hem of his red colored shirt. "Uh...sí?"

I knelt down on the floor next to him. "You're upset," I said bluntly.

"I'm fine...it's really not important..."

I glared at him. "Bastardo!" I growled. "Stop being a selfless idiot and listen to me, alright? It obviously is important, and I want to know what's bothering you. I know I'm practically a stranger to you, but dammit it pays to talk about these things." I sighed and added in an undertone. "I want to fucking help you for a change."

It was silent, and I cautiously glanced up to make eye contact with him. Tears were pooling in his eyes again, and a few were slipping down his tan cheeks. I wanted nothing more than to reach over and brush them away, to hug him and tell him how much I loved him, that I was sorry for being a screwup. But I couldn't do any of that for fear of weirding him out.

I did manage to risk a gentle touch to his hand, silently encouraging him to talk to me. And for once, he understood. "I'm not sure about anything," he whispered. "I try not to let it bother me, but it's driving me crazy! I woke up in a hospital bed in Turkey of all places with injuries I can't remember receiving. I don't know how it happened, there are suddenly people I don't recognize, and there are events I didn't even know existed! I don't even know if it will get better, and it makes me upset because I know I'm supposed to know who you are Lovino, but I just don't!" He sniffled.

"I fucking hate this," he grumbled.

At any other moment I would have laughed at his sudden language, but at this point I was fighting to keep myself from breaking down for the hundred millionth time. I squeezed his hand and nodded. "Don't worry, bastard. You'll remember; all those friends of yours are refusing to do anything but help you until you get better. A-and I'll be here too. Not that you'll need me, but-"

Antonio smiled through his tears. "Gracias Lovino. I have a feeling that you're more helpful than you think."

I rolled my eyes at him. "Whatever. Now stop crying. You look better when you're happy, you idiot." That was enough to bring back the perfect smile I knew so well. "Good. Now take off your shirt. I think the water got cold thanks to your blubbering."

He giggled tiredly, but complied, gingerly lifting his shirt over his head and revealing more white bandages than actual skin. I went back into the bathroom to refill the bucket and grab all the supplies before I sat down behind him, running my eyes over the crisscrossed wrappings for a place to start. I finally found it and began unwrapping the bandages carefully, gently.

"Let me know if anything hurts, okay?" I whispered.

Antonio nodded quietly in response, and I took the final layer of bandages off, exposing the burned skin to me for the first time. I felt like I was going to be sick: ironic considering how much blood I have seen in my lifetime. But there was something about Antonio's raw, red and blistering back that made me feel queasy.

"It looks muy feo, doesn't it?" He asked softly, his voice trembling subtly.

"It will get better," I responded, trying my best to sound optimistic as I dipped the light washcloth into the water and wrung it out.

He nodded. "Sí. But Mama says it will still scar."

He winced as I touched his back with the cloth, and I quickly apologized and attempted to be more gentle. Washing his burns was more like super carefully patting the washcloth against his skin, for anything more than that had him whimpering in pain and I couldn't handle that shit.

"Most of us have scars, Antonio," I sighed as I set down the cloth and unscrewed the cap of his antibiotic ointment. "It's what makes us human, and each and every one of them have a story to tell."

"I wish I could at least remember what story they told," he sighed. I didn't answer to that.

According to the instructions, I wasn't supposed to touch the burns with my hands, which was why I had grabbed a handful of cotton swabs from the bathroom: and they couldn't be reused. So by the time I finished applying the ointment I had used up quite a bit of them. Now, for the gauze and the bandages.

I was halfway finished when Antonio spoke up again, thoughtfully. "Lovino?"

"Hm?"

"Do you have scars?"

I jerked my eyes up and stared at the back of his head for a few seconds before relenting. There was no harm in telling him as long as I kept it vague. "Y-yeah."

"You do?" He asked, sounding surprised.

I let out a short laugh as I finished off the wrapping. "Yep. And you're done." He turned to face me and slipped his shirt back on, watching as I grabbed everything and put them away.

"What stories do your scars have?" Antonio asked me when I came back in. I stared at him for a moment, my heart in my throat, before shrugging in practiced carelessness. "Maybe I'll tell you some other time."

He nodded slowly and yawned. "I'm tired," he informed me.

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Then go take a siesta, bastardo."

He grinned mischievously. "You look tired too. We could use the couch cushions to make a bed on the floor and sleep here. I used to do that with Gilbert and Francis."

I was trying not to blush, but it was too late. "Won't your mom get mad?"

Antonio stood up and grabbed some blankets from the other room before he returned and tossed all the cushions onto the floor. "No, she won't mind if we clean up. Please, Lovino?"

And that was how I found myself lying beside him on the makeshift bed, staring up at the ceiling while he relaxed on his stomach. "Antonio?" I asked after a couple minutes, turning over to face him.

The only response I got was his quiet, even breathing: he was already sleeping.

I allowed a sad smile onto my face as I reached over and gently ran my fingers through his hair. "I'm sorry you have such a selfish fucking asshole for a boyfriend," I whispered. "I'm sorry for almost abandoning you, I just panicked back there, but it sure as hell won't happen again. I'm not leaving you this time, Tonio. This may just kill me, but if there's a chance that it will help you, then I'll do whatever it takes.

"Because that's what love is about, right? It's not all happiness and sunshine, there's bumps in the road too, and when they come we might have to sacrifice." Antonio's lips unconsciously curved into a small smile as he leaned into my hand.

"Maybe you'll remember," I continued. "Maybe you won't- but if you don't then I will make sure you fall in love with me all over again, bastardo. I don't know how I'll be able to do that, since I don't really know what the fuck you ever saw in me the first time, but I'll find a way." I sat up and leaned closer to him, planting a kiss to his forehead. "Ti amo, idiota."

* * *

 **Translations:**

 _Non si può andare Fratello(Italian)-_ You can not go brother.

 _Es casi como que estábamos destinados a encontrarnos.(Spanish)-_ It's almost like we were destined to meet.

* * *

 _ **A/N: So, what do you guys think? It should be interesting to read your feedback, since everyone seemed to have their own ideas about how this chapter should go about. And wow… Thinking about this now, we have like two or at the most three chapters plus an epilogue left. It's almost over guys! *Starts tearing up but is yelled at for being so sentimental***_

 _ **Sorry about that! Stay awesome guys!**_

 _ **Altera vita mea**_


	25. Chapter 25

_Loving a Stranger_

 _Chapter twenty five: One Way or Another_

*Gilbert's phone camera*

"Is it recording?" Francis's voice asked somewhere off screen.

The camera moved roughly so that it was focusing on the face of its owner, who smirked into it with flashing red eyes. "Kesesese! Ja, it's on!" He called as he fixed his hair and checked himself out. "Hallo world, it's the one and only Awesome Gilbert Beilschmidt here! Today, Franny and I are helping out our awesome friend Toni. Stop feeling Antonio up and say hi before some crazy Italian finds out about this!"

The camera suddenly tore away from Gilbert's face and landed on the Frenchman who was "helping" the Spaniard get his black shirt on. "Hola!" Antonio waved to the camera innocently while Francis winked, less innocently moving a hand away from his companion's tight black jeans. "Bonjour, mes chers!"

Gilbert brought the camera back to himself and rolled his eyes. "I bet you're all wondering why we're dressed so awesomely sexy, right? Well, to help Toni get his memory back, we decided to recreate one of my personal favorite pranks: our infamous, awesome tomato attack on the world's favorite aristo _brat_ , Roderich Edelstein. Our source- the almost equally awesome as me, Elizabeta, has informed us that our target is right now at the home of his Swiss friend, Vash. Just like last time, kesese."

"So..." Antonio sat down on Gilbert's bed. "How exactly are you going to do this? Isn't Vash a little... trigger-happy?"

Francis nodded. "Oui. And we can't do things exactly the same as last time either or else they'll get suspicious."

"Right." Gilbert nodded and trained the camera back to his face. "Liz is with Lili right now, and everyone knows how overprotective big brother Vash is. So we're going to have our dear friend Lovino call the Swiss and tell him he saw Lili with some guy, and he'll run out like a crazy man. That leaves Roderich awkwardly leaving the house all alone..."

"And that's when we ambush him!" Francis picked up excitedly. "Oh honhonhon it's been too long since the Bad Touch Trio has struck!"

The trio smirked at each other knowingly. Antonio was the first to speak up, thrusting his hand in the center as if he had done so his entire life. "Unidad." "Loyalität," Gilbert added passionately, bringing his pale hand on top of the Spaniard's tan one. Francis echoed and gracefully added his hand to the top, "Amour."

Then the camera cut.

The next time it turned on it was set up on a tripod, revealing the three mischievous Europeans who were huddled in the bushes beside Roderich's shiny white Mercedes. "I can't believe we're wasting all these beautiful tomatoes!" Antonio wailed, longingly trailing a hand across the bright red fruit. "Why couldn't we throw something else at him? Like rocks or something?"

"Rocks?!" Francis gasped. Gilbert stared at him in shock. "Even I don't hate him that much Toni!" The Spaniard blinked and cocked his head to the side. "I don't understand...oh. Rocks are a bad idea huh?"

"Ja! It is! Now stop trying to eat our ammunition!" Gilbert demanded, smacking Antonio's wandering hands away from the tomatoes just as a cell phone started vibrating from Francis' direction. "Il est notre petit Lovino," he said when he checked the caller I.D. He quickly answered it and switched it to speaker phone. "Bonjour Lovino!"

Apparently, the Italian on the other end wasn't in the same cheery mood. _"Fuck your bonjour shit,"_ he grumbled. _"Do you have any fucking clue what I have to do for you ungrateful bastards? Since you couldn't let me live my damn life in Italy, I have to pay back my Nonno by slaving away for him and Gilbert's grandfather. And not even a normal job either, I have to be their fucking janitor. I'm hiding in a shitty janitor closet to make this call, dammit, so you better be thankful!"_

Gilbert was smirking in amusement at the Italian's rant, and Francis was trying not to laugh out loud. Antonio seemed to be the only sincere one, and smiled as he scooted closer to the phone. "Gracias for helping, Lovino!" He said happily, causing a whole bunch of sputtering noises to emit from the other end of the phone.

 _"I..uh...fuck...prego..."_

Francis glanced at the camera and winked subtly, while Gilbert's smirk grew as he whispered, "So weit, ist es gut."

 _"I'm going to make a three way call with the Nasty Cheese Bastard,"_ Lovino muttered. _"So the three of you keep your traps shut, alright?"_

"Do you have a plan?" Gilbert asked.

 _"Pfft. Of fucking course. Now shut up, I'm calling him."_

The phone rang a few times, and the Bad Touch Trio leaned closer in anticipation. One the third ring, Vash picked up. _"Hello?"_

 _"Vash, it's Lovino,"_ the Italian said curtly.

 _"Can I help you?"_

 _"No, I'm fucking helping you. I'm only doing this because I used to work with your sister and she's a nice kid."_

 _"Why are you bringing my sister up?"_ Vash asked, his voice growing hostile. _"If you've touched her Vargas, I swear by the Swiss Alps I will-"_

 _"Calm your tits, bastardo. I'm doing your sorry ass a favor."_ The three eavesdroppers had their hands over their mouths to suppress their giggles. Who would have thought Lovino could be so calm during prank calls? _"You know that ice cream parlor near the mall? She's here with some douche from work- Sam is his name. I don't like him, he reminds me of Francis if you know what I mean."_

There was suddenly the slam of a door a few houses over and Gilbert grabbed the camera and pointed it out the brush so it could record the figure of an angry older brother storming into his car. _"I'm on my way,"_ he was shouting into the phone. _"You said the ice cream parlor right?"_

 _"Yeah. Fuck he's putting his arm around her..."_

 _"DON'T JUST SIT THERE AND TALK TO ME! HOLD THE BASTARD OFF BEFORE HE MOLESTS MY SISTER! I'LL BE THERE IN FIVE MINUTES!"_ Then he hung up, tires screeching as the vehicle peeled off.

There was a second of silence, and then they started cracking up. "Oh honhonhon!" "Kesesesese!" "Hahaha! You did great, Lovino!"

 _"Thanks. D-did you hear how freaked out he got?"_

Francis suddenly caught sight of their target at the Swiss' house. "Shhh! There he is! Merci Lovino! I hope you enjoy mopping the floors!" He hung up and scooted closer to the edge of the bush, where the three of them grabbed a tomato from the bucket.

Roderich was locking up the house, fixing the lapels of his fancy coat as he walked down the sidewalk toward his soon to be assaulters. "And...NOW!" Gilbert hissed, the camera jerking as the three of them stood up and threw the fruit with all their might.

They managed a couple shots at his car, before the Austrian rather calmly reached into his pocket and pulled out a bottle. There was the sound of a spray and some cries of pain and the camera fell to the ground next to the three boys groaning and rubbing at their eyes. "What the hell?!" Gilbert screamed.

"Hmph. Did you really think I was stupid enough to fall for the same thing twice? I think you three are losing your so called bad touch. I almost feel bad for Antonio because he didn't know better, but now that I think about it he's just as annoying as you two, so never mind." The aristocrat let out another humph and got into his car, driving away from the three pepper sprayed pranksters.

The last thing the camera recorded was Antonio's weak, "That's not how it happened last time, is it?"

* * *

*A letter written by João*

...Damn….I had no idea what I was even doing, but I guess it somewhat worked. I just wish I wasn't so awkward when it came to personal issues- I'm so much better at joking around with people or lightly insulting them- that is why I joined the army! Which reminds me, I still don't know why Antonio joined, he's way too softhearted (or pathetic, is the word I'd personally use) for it.

Anyway! I'm getting off topic.

What I was trying to do was the same as everyone else I guess: help Toni get his memory back. I was able to pull a few strings and got the two of us access back to Fort Jackson with free plane tickets to boot! The only thing stressful about it was that Gilbert's somewhat scary girlfriend was demanding that I bring the Spaniard back before New Year's Eve, because her plans have to happen on that specific day. That gave me two days. Did you know that woman walks around with a frying pan? Gilbert claimed she's given half the guys in their school a concussion at some point in time! So, no pressure, right?

At least I didn't have to talk much during the ride, for Antonio talked enough for five people before falling asleep for the rest of the flight. That gave me time to think about what to say once he actually woke up- because what I said could very well have a direct affect on his memories. Still no pressure… Okay… I shouldn't immediately start grilling him like I always do, because he'd probably think I was a total asshole. Small talk was unimportant. Uh...the weather? Great. If I was Antonio I wouldn't want to remember me.

Once our plane landed and we got our rental we immediately set out to the Fort. "So...have you...remembered anything?" I asked after a few minutes of weird silence.

Antonio glanced up and smiled a little. "Things are coming back to me slowly," he said. "They mostly have to do with the things people remind me of, so I guess this idea Francis and Gilbert had works!"

I nodded. "That's good."

"Yeah, it is. I remembered some of the pranks we came up with. I can't believe I forgot the time we smuggled Gilbird to school and let him poop on people's heads."

"You did what?!" I stared at him in surprise. I had heard that him and his friends had been crazy, but how the hell did they manage to not get expelled?

Antonio chuckled nervously at my outburst. "Ah, we did get into a lot of trouble, but it made things interesting."

I shook my head in amusement. "You're insane."

"Most likely." He grinned.

"Have you...remembered anything about Lovino?" It seemed to be a good question, for ever since I met Toni there were three main topics he loved to talk about for hours on end: tomatoes, his friends, and especially Lovino. Seeing him go so long without even mentioning the feisty Italian he had been so head over heels for was really bothering me. And if it upset me, can you imagine how horrible Lovino must feel?

Antonio was quiet for a few seconds, then sighed. "Not really...all I know is that I used to be able to make him smile. I don't think it happened often, but still...Now it seems that whenever he's near me he looks like he's about to cry."

I sneaked a glance at him and offered him what was supposed to be a smile of encouragement. "Don't give up yet, Toni. You'll remember him soon."

"I hope so...I hate seeing him so upset."

We finally arrived at the Fort, putting an end to my failed pep talk. "We're here!" I said loudly, lightly punching his arm as I parked and jumped out of the car. Antonio followed and looked around slowly. "So they weren't kidding when they told me I joined the army…"

I led the way through the familiar grounds and shook my head. "You said it had something to do with your dad. But anyway! This is where we met!"

"Lisboa! Carriedo!" A powerful, and very familiar voice(seriously, I'd heard that voice yell at us, mostly at Toni, for ten weeks straight, I'd recognize it from anywhere) called to us.

I immediately turned around and saluted Sergeant Powell, surprised to see Antonio follow my lead, he wasn't usually one for catching onto things. "Hola, Sergeant Powell!" He said.

Our drill sergeant shook his head and muttered, "Carriedo, how many times have I told you not to-" My eyes widened at the same time he suddenly froze, and we both turned to the cheerful Spaniard. "I thought Lisboa said you lost your memory."

Antonio smiled sheepishly. "I did, sir. But something about hearing your voice brought back some things concerning this place."

Powell grinned a little in spite of his gruff exterior. "Didn't I tell you I'd make you unable to forget my voice?"

"In fact, you told us it would be your voice counting the sheep at night," he responded, his smile growing wide at the memory. He suddenly grew really excited and practically bounded around the area before he disappeared, shouting over his shoulder, "João! Let's see if there's anything else I'll remember!"

Powell snickered. "That kid…"

"You've gotta love him," I scoffed.

"He's got a habit of growing on people, that's for sure. Hey, Lisboa."

I stopped walking and looked back at him. "Don't let him go back. The army's not for him," Powell nodded to me.

I nodded and gave him a final salute. "Yes sir! Don't worry, when he remembers I think there will be plenty keeping him here. Once he gets what used to be in his almost empty brain back he'll figure out he's got himself an Italian lover."

Powell started laughing his lungs out, surprised that Toni could get someone to put up with his obliviousness. Well, in reality, Lovino's definition of "put up" included a lot of yelling and curses, but I guess that's not important?

I finally found that oblivious idiot in the mail room, where he was walking around slowly. "João?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah?"

Antonio turned toward me and shoved his hands in his pockets. "I feel like I was always sad in this room. Like I was always waiting for a letter from someone, but they never did send me one." Ah, that made sense. I could remember him whining almost constantly about Lovino- who he had been trying to get to write him the entire ten weeks we had spent there.

I smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Don't feel so bad about it Toni," I told him. "That person who you were waiting for eventually came around."

Antonio looked up and smiled hopefully. "Really?" He asked. "I wish I knew who it was."

"That's for you to figure out. But don't worry, you'll get to that point. Everyone's working to make sure you do that."

He nodded, his face growing more serious. I knew the look. That was the face he made when he was determined- and he could be surprisingly stubborn when he wanted to be! "You're right. I'll remember. Gracias hermano."

I must have made some kind of weird face, for he suddenly laughed and turned to walk away. "What did you call me?" I sputtered.

"Brother," he said simply, sending me a smile over his shoulder. "From what I can remember, that would explain our relationship pretty well, sí?"

I smiled. If only we had figured that out the first time, idiot. "Oi irmão! Does that mean I get to make fun of you again?"

* * *

*Elizabeta's Observation Journal*

No, this is not a diary! I don't care what Gilbert has told you! If this was a diary, I'd be writing about myself, not the actions of cute yaoi couples. But seriously, this is frustrating. I've been shipping Antonio and Lovino way before the two even met! If you want to read about that you'll have to read my journal from Sophomore year.

Anyway, I'm glad Gil and Francis gave me an entire day for this, because I'm going to bring back some of Toni's memories and get those boys closer! One of my favorite moments between the two of them was during prom. Truthfully, it had been a bit of a disaster, but I did end up with some amazing material after it all. With the financial help of some lovely families such as the Bonnefoy's, the Beilschmidt's, and Mr. Vargas, I managed to rent out the same building we used for prom, and I got everyone on board by making this a New Year's party. The only people I actually need are Bella, Alfred, Lovino, and of course Antonio.

Speaking of Lovino, the poor guy was nervous. Before Gilbert and Francis showed up with Toni, the Italian was pacing around outside, muttering things under his breath. "Eliza," he said finally, when I demanded to know what was bothering him. "This whole thing could go one of two ways. It might work, or it could fucking blow up in our faces."

I shook my head in determination. "There's only one way it will go, and that is the right way. I'm here to make sure of that- and I've been doing this sort of thing since eighth grade. Bella is over him and would rather help me anyway, so you and Antonio will end up back together like it was intended, and I personally will not rest until that happens. You have my word."

What I said must have been somewhat of a consolation to him, for he took a deep breath and nodded. "Grazie."

I smiled and shoved him back toward the building. "Menj be. The boys will be here any minute. You know where to meet me later, right?"

"Yeah," he murmured, subtly rubbing the arm I had pushed. "I'll see you then. This better work."

I nodded. "It will."

It was only a few minutes after Lovino left that the Bad Touch Trio showed up- fashionably late to the surprise of no one. "Liz!" Gilbert exclaimed, rushing to my side to hug me. "You look awesome!"

I half-heartedly pushed him away and shot him a serious look. "Gil, what have I told you about this?"

He paused in thought. "Uh...no interrupting you while you're working..?"

"Exactly. Now go! I need to talk to Antonio thank you." "Estoy aquí," the Spaniard said, walking up behind the idiot who is my boyfriend.

Gilbert was sitting there sulking like a pitiful puppy, so I finally sighed. "Fine. If you leave I just might dance with you. But don't forget you're the one who asked me to do this."

He looked up and smirked. "Really? Awesome! I'll see you later then." He finally left with Francis, who winked and wished me good luck as the two of them disappeared inside.

I rolled my eyes and turned to Antonio, offering him a smile. "Hi."

He grinned back as he fixed the lapels of a crisp black suit he probably borrowed from Francis. "Hola Elizabeta! So what's the plan?"

I nodded as I slowly began walking toward the doors, allowing him to follow me. I've always liked to explain things while I'm moving. "So this is supposed to bring back the memory of senior year prom," I told him. "I'll give you some background information. You wanted to go with someone in particular- and you need to figure out who it is on your own." Antonio pouted a little, but nodded. "Okay."

"The problem is you didn't talk to me before you asked this person, and you got rejected. In fact, the person told you they weren't even going to be here. That was when you came to me, crying and whining. I told you I'd come up with a plan to get the two of you together, but you'd have to do exactly what I told you. I made you ask someone else, someone who would be more than happy to accept, and told you that I would take care of the rest. So you asked Bella."

"Why would you want me to do that if you wanted me to go with the first person?"

"Jealousy is a powerful emotion and is a key element of my work."

Antonio nodded again. "So what do I do now?" He asked, holding the front door open for me as I walked in.

"Enjoy the party and try to remember who you really wanted to go with." My eyes scanned the room for Lovino and found him by the back wall next to the punch just as we had agreed on. He was talking with Feliciano, but I could see his eyes flick over in our direction as he recognized his used to be boyfriend's presence.

"Oh, Antonio! You're here!"

My attention was drawn to Bella, who was walking towards us in a pretty red flowing dress that matched her "date's" shirt. The Spaniard glanced at me, silently asking if this was supposed to happen. I nodded slightly, and he was immediately all smiles. "Sí. Sorry for being late, Francis was fussing over clothes again." He chuckled. "Do you want to dance?"

She nodded, but not before looking at me and smiling knowingly. I smiled back: she was still on my side. That meant Lovino's worries were unfounded. I allowed the two of them to disappear to the dance floor before I turned to talk to the Italian.

"Liz!" Gilbert suddenly grabbed my arm as I attempted to walk past him. "Dance with the awesome me!"

"Gilbert! I told you that work comes first!" I hissed back, vainly attempting to pull my limb back.

He made an annoyed face and tugged me closer to the dancefloor. "'Work' can wait a few minutes, right? Unless of course, you lost all of your pathetic dancing talent after a year and a half of being a boring, unawesome college student." That smirk. The little sneak knew exactly what he was doing.

I glared at him, half-angry at the insult, but also equally angry at his sadly effective method. "I can outdance you any day, Beil _shit_."

"Oooh!" He laughed. "Is that a challenge, _Lord_ Héderváry?"

"You bet your pretty little head it is. I hope you don't break a nail out there."

I hate him. He knew that challenging me would lead to my distraction and ultimately my destruction as well. After much more than one song I finally snapped out of it. "You're such an idiot, Gil! Go with Francis and get Toni away from Bella. I don't want those two together all night!"

He gave me a kiss on the cheek- which I failed to evade- and a thumbsup. "The awesome me is on it!" He announced before he ran off to pull Francis away from Arthur, leaving me to dash toward Alfred, who was having way too much fun as the DJ.

"You do remember the plan, right?" I asked him, planting my hands on my hips.

He winked playfully as he shoved a handful of chips into his mouth(was he even supposed to be eating while he handled equipment?). "Uh-huh. I'm supposed to look for your okay signal, then I start that slow romantic song Kiku gave me, which will set the mood, bring back memories, and let those sparks fly!"

"Good. Make sure you're watching, Alfred."

"Don't you know who I am? Alfred F. Jones, the hero, at your service ma'am!"

I chuckled a little in spite of myself and left him in favor of meeting up with Lovino at the rendezvous point. "Szia," I greeted. "Sorry for being late. I had a rather intelligent idiot bothering me."

The Italian's frown grew. "Nothing's wrong, right? Tonio's not over there drooling at Bella's feet or some fucked up shit like that?" He asked, eyes wide with worry.

I shook my head and pointed to where the Bad Touch Trio was laughing near the food. "Nope. In fact, if everything works out, I think I'll send him over here in a few minutes. Are you ready for that?"

Lovino sucked in a deep breath. "Sí. Get that bastardo over."

I smiled and ran over to the trio(and running in heels is not fun! Do not listen to those commercials!) "Hello boys! I'm here for Antonio."

Francis made a face and draped an arm around the Spaniard's shoulders. "Gilbert was right. You do get rather sérieux when you do this kind of thing."

I sighed in annoyance and flicked his arm- which was most likely molesting while no one was noticing- away from Antonio. "I'm a professional, and if you didn't want someone who was serious then you should have done this yourself, Goldilocks. Now Antonio, a moment of your time?"

He smiled and stepped away from his friends. "What's the plan, jefe?" He joked.

I rolled my eyes at him. "Have you remembered who it is yet?"

Antonio's smile grew sad as he ran a hand through his hair. "I think so. I asked Lovi, didn't I?"

My grin was almost too wide for my face. Not only did he remember asking our favorite little tsundere as Kiku called him, but he also used that adorable nickname he had brilliantly come up with when they had met! I was so happy I almost screamed and jumped up and down around him in circles. Barely able to constrain my excitement I batted my eyes and asked innocently, "Who?"

"Lovino. I thought the nickname was cute," he answered, glancing down at his feet with a slightly red face. "I wish he had accepted. I like spending time with him."

"Today's your lucky day," I beamed. "Because he's here."

Antonio jerked his head back up and stared at me. "He is? But I thought he wasn't-"

"I told you I'm a miracle worker!" I laughed, watching the Spaniard's green eyes light up happily.

"Where is he?" He questioned, turning around in circles in an attempt to catch a glimpse of the Italian. No use trying to hide it anymore. My inner fangirl was demanding release, so I let out a happy squeal.

Toni had known me since elementary school, and unfortunately even he could tell when I was fangirling like a crazy person. He glanced at me curiously, but thankfully he decided against questioning me.

"He's over by the punch," I instructed. "And if a slow song starts playing, for heaven's sake act on whatever impulse you get. I'm sure it'll be the right one." Antonio opened his mouth- probably to ask some stupid question- but I pushed him in the direction of Lovino before I disappeared into the crowd. Well, in reality, I was on my way to my hiding place, the curtain near the punch bowl, but what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

I managed to slip behind it before Antonio showed up, and waited for him to finally get over there. When I saw him I squealed again- this time mentally- and snuggled deeper into the curtains to...not spy, but document.

"Lovi, hi!" Antonio greeted, smiling brightly.

Oh gosh, Lovino looked so cute, all blushing and red! "W-what the fuck did you call me?" He stammered.

"Lovi. It's cute, sí?"

Lovino muttered something in Italian, and when I asked Feli about it he said that it was probably something along the lines of, "Ti ricordi."

Antonio cocked his head to the side, but didn't ask. "I didn't know you were going to be here," he continued obliviously.

"I didn't either. My stupid brother dragged me here. I would sure as hell drive myself home if I could, but we took his car."

"Oh…"

Lovino snorted softly. "Having fun with Bella, bastard?"

Antonio blinked. "It would have been more fun with you, Lovi. I'm sure of it."

I giggled. This was so adorable! Oh! Alfred!

I poked my head out from behind the curtain and made eye contact with him, nodding for him to get that song playing. Alfred bobbed his head and after a few seconds…

'Work' by Rihanna started blasting through the speakers.

I'm going to kill that idiot.

That trance between Antonio and Lovino had been broken when the Spaniard jumped nearly a foot in the air and almost knocked over the punch, while the other was hunched over laughing at him. "Oops!" Alfred shouted. "Wrong song!" And immediately switched it to what it had been supposed to be, '100 Years 'by Five for Fighting, regardless of the fact that Gilbert and Francis were loudly whining about it.

I huffed and sank behind the curtain, hoping the moment hadn't been completely destroyed. Thankfully, Antonio was smiling fondly and laughing too. "Do you want to dance with me?" He asked breathlessly.

Lovino blushed, but shook his head stubbornly. "Fuck no."

Suddenly Antonio's face fell. "Oh...okay…"

I was about to crawl out of my hiding place and smack him in the face, but Lovino frowned and grabbed the idiot by the forearm before he could walk away. "Tomato Bastard," he said in a low voice. You're not supposed to listen to me, because I have a tendency to say the opposite of what I mean."

Antonio blinked a few times, then smiled, grabbing the Italian by the arm. "Okay!" He chirped, pulling him onto the dancefloor.

I ran out and located my boyfriend. I needed to be in that floor too, so I could make sure everything was going smoothly. "Gilbert! Come on! We're dancing to this song!"

He looked at me like I was insane. "Why..?" He's so stupid, he decided that right then and there was the best time to start complaining about dancing, when he was the one bugging me to the entire night. I would have grabbed someone else to dance with so I could track Lovino and Antonio, but the only other free person nearby was Francis. And I was not in the mood to deal with him.

I sighed in defeat and looked across the dancefloor to see Lovino blushing in Antonio's arms, and both of them looked the happiest I had ever seen them since the accident. The Italian smirked a little and whispered something that made Toni flush, and it was so cute I had to slap a hand over my mouth to keep from screaming. And then, right in front of my eyes, Lovino pulled Antonio close and kissed him gently.

"Gil! Francis! Look!" I hissed. But by the time those idiots glanced over it had ended as quickly as it had started. Lovino was cursing loudly and pushing his way towards the door, and Antonio was standing there with a confused look on his face.

I swore and shot a glare over my shoulder. "You guys talk to Toni," I shouted, picking up my skirts and tearing through the crowd. But by the time I got outside there was no sign of the Italian.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Well, I am not dead guys! I am so sorry for missing last week, but I was out of town and by the time I finished drafting the chapter it was like 10:30 pm Thursday night. So I just figured I'd take the time to draft it and all that jazz and upload it this week instead. I hope you'll forgive me.**_

 _ **I've heard reviews make lovely peace treaties.**_

 _ **Thanks for everything, my awesome readers!**_

 _ **altera vita mea**_


	26. Chapter 26

_Loving a Stranger_

 _Chapter twenty-six: How Much Longer?_

Shit had hit the fan alright. Dio, I can't believe how fucking stupid I am. Why did I kiss Antonio? I mean, yeah the mood had been right and he had been remembering quite a bit, but that sure as hell didn't mean he was ready to receive my advances! Just when things start to get better I have to screw it up.

As if that wasn't the worst of it, the restrooms at Nonno's and Mr. Beilschmidt's office needed to be cleaned. Which was now my job. For like, three more weeks. Damn. I had thrown the giant 'Closed for Cleaning' sign in front of the men's door and then retreated inside to sit there and try to forget life rather than grab the supplies and scrub the toilets.

That was when my grandfather decided to waltz in as if he owned the place. Well, he did actually...but that's not fucking important. "Hello? Can you not read English? Did you somehow miss the enormous sign telling you not to come in here?" I demanded irritably, still making no move to start cleaning.

Nonno was staring at me seriously, and it was weirding me out. "What?"

His face still wasn't breaking into its normal toothy grin. "Lovino, we need to talk."

Fuck. This sounded more serious than when I was thirteen and forgot to change the cat's litter box before Feli and I left the house, causing the feline to piss all over Nonno's bed. And apparently, women don't like having sex in a puddle of cat piss. "Talk then," I told him, trying not to sound as freaked out as I felt.

Nonno released a deep sigh. "I was doing laundry last night, and I found something I'd like you to take a look at." He extended his hand, which was gripping a white cloth. I eyed it before noticing that he wanted me to take it. The cloth had weight to it, and when I pulled back a corner my heart went cold.

I cringed, and the blade clattered onto the tile floor, pointing accusingly at me. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I must have forgotten it after I had thrown it in the laundry basket. I am so screwed. I licked my lips nervously, taking a few subconscious steps backwards. "W-why the hell do you assume it's mine?" I asked, refusing to bring my eyes to my grandfather.

"I already asked Feliciano. He tried to cover up for you, but he's a terrible liar." Nonno took a step closer, but I quickly doubled the distance between us. I heard him sigh again. "Lovino," he said gently. "Guardami."

I slowly lifted my head until we made eye contact, my heart pounding uncontrollably. He didn't look angry, he wasn't yelling at me for my stupidness or telling me what a fucked up basket case I was. Instead, he looked like someone who's heart was breaking. And that was ten trillion fucking times worse. "I'm sorry," he choked out, tears beginning to cloud his eyes. "Whatever you were going through that made you start, I'm sorry for not being there for you. But...why?"

I shook my head quickly. "Nonno, it doesn't even matter anymore. I-I haven't cut since October, and before that it was junior year. I swear."

He opened his mouth in protest. "Then why was-"

There was suddenly a loud knock on the bathroom door, and I took it as the perfect opportunity to flee the conversation. While my grandfather was distracted I ran out from behind him and dashed toward the door, yanking it open and stupidly colliding with the person outside. "Sorry I-" I suddenly recognized the girl I had run into and leapt back in surprise. "Bella?!"

She smiled at me. "Hi! Francis told me you'd be here. Um...I'm I interrupting something?"

"No!" I said quickly, before Nonno could come up behind me. In fact, I stepped outside and slammed the door shut, leaning against it a bit. "You're looking for me?"

She nodded and brushed a strand of blond hair out of her face. "Yes! So you know how we're all supposed to do something to help Antonio with his memories and all?" At my nod, she continued at her rapid fire pace. "Okay well today was going to be my turn it was going to be great! I was going to take him to the children's home my aunt owns because we've been volunteering there since we were in eighth grade and I think it was what triggered him to want to go into social work. But then Lars called me up and he's car just got impounded a couple of towns over so he's stranded! I have to go get him, but now there's no one to be with Antonio! Francis told me to ask you to help and that would be so wonderful if you could! Please!" She clasped her hands under her chin and copped a pleading puppy face, somehow managing to enlarge her eyes for effect.

Great. Sounds like I'd go from one hell to the next. I cleared my throat, preparing to gently decline. "Uh...well, I'd have to talk to my grandfather, since I'm working for him and all..." I said slowly. "And...I think he'd say no...because of stuff..."

"WHAT?!" I jumped as Nonno's voice boomed from the other side of the door. "WHY WOULD I SAY NO? I SAY YES! GO!"

Bella giggled and grabbed my hand. "Thank you so much!" She gushed, kissing both my cheeks in gratitude. "Toni knows the address and my mom is expecting you! Bedankt! You're the best!" She ran out as quickly as she had appeared, probably so I couldn't remind her that I never said yes.

"Fuck," I grumbled.

Nonno finally emerged from the restroom with a thoughtful look on his face. _Shit._ "So Lovino," he said, apparently dead set on finishing our conversation. "If what you told me is true, this incident has only happened once since you met that Spanish lover of yours?"

I glared at him out of the corner of my eye. "Sounds like someone's been talking with Feli too much," I hissed. He broke out into a relieved grin. "Ah! And here I was worrying because I wasn't sure how to help you! But this Antonio seems to be doing wonders, huh? He does make you happy. Now look, if he ever wants to have sex with you, show him that Italians are the best lovers! I would suggest-"

I plugged my ears and started humming at obnoxious volumes, walking briskly towards the door. "I'm leaving!" I shouted over my shoulder. If I had been an optimist, I would have laughed and said, "that could have gone a lot worse. Dio, Bella's timing is amazing!"

Since optimism is a bunch of bullshit for bastards like Antonio, the thoughts running through my mind were along the lines of, _Shit. What the fuck just happened? Now Nonno will never be able to look at me the same way again, or Feli will slip up and tell some other person, and before I know it everyone will freak out if I ever take longer than ten minutes in the bathroom. And what the fuck is up with Bella? I'm pretty sure Lars was at the party last night, because he wanted to keep an eye on Antonio and make sure he didn't try anything. How the hell did he get out of town and get into legal problems in a matter of twelve hours? And then Bella tracked me down specifically. She's friends with Elizabeta. For all I know this could be their plan to get me to talk to Tonio after- fuck._

 _That was it wasn't it?_ I realized, fighting the urge to bang my head against the steering wheel. I had no problem imagining them plotting this in the dead of night, going over exactly what to do and say to make a fucking pawn out of me. Does anyone want to know why most of the guys I went to high school with ended up gay? Because the chicks are psychopaths! I could always ditch, but something told me one of those two was probably stalking me to make sure I did what I was supposed to, and I had no desire to be chased around by a crazy girl with a frying pan.

Dammit, that meant I'd have to face the results of my careless actions- and I absolutely hated facing things! I would much rather avoid it or blame it on someone else. Unfortunately, in this situation there was nothing much I could say other than someone spiked the punch and throw the blame on Ivan or something. I hate life. And I was sure Antonio might hate me too; for who the fuck likes getting kissed by someone they barely remember?

I slowly pulled into the Carriedo's driveway and froze, staring at it and debating whether I should try my chances at escaping. I could probably hide out in Barnes and Noble, no one would think to look for me there and I doubt Lukas cared enough to turn me in. The more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea. I was just putting the car in reverse when the front door of the house opened, revealing a familiar Spaniard dressed in a large coat. "Fuck."

He waved to me, and stepped out to talk. Great, now I had been spotted. I begrudgingly rolled down my window and sighed. "Hi."

"Hola Lovi!" Antonio said cheerfully, leaning his arms against the car. "I didn't know you were coming over today. I was supposed to do something with Bella..."

I cleared my throat. If Antonio hadn't known of the change, it was proof that this whole thing was a damn setup. "Uh, about that. Some shit came up and she asked me to fill in for her...if you're okay with that...not that I fucking want to be here"

He blinked, then smiled brightly, causing my heart to start drumming against my chest. I slowly pinched my thigh in attempt to distract myself: getting all weird again would fucking help no one. "Of course it's fine with me! I told you yesterday that I like being with you."

Thanks to that idiot, not only was my heart rate at an unhealthy pace, but there was also a deep blush forming on my cheeks. Damn him! Even when he didn't know anything he still had this effect on me! "That was before I fucked up and... Sorry about that," I said lamely, gesturing wildly with my hands.

Antonio rested his head against his arm, and fuck he was so close I could see the individual specks of light and dark green in his eyes, and the figure of my own panicking reflection in his pupils. "It's fine Lovi," he said softly. "If Elizabeta gave you the same instructions she gave me, you were just following the impulse, sí? To be honest, if you hadn't done it I would have."

By then, I was way too flustered to make a coherent sentence. "You...I...fuck...g-get in...damn car...s-stupid bastard!" I stammered, opening the driver side door and hopping out, allowing him to get into the front seat.

Antonio laughed at me as he slid into the car, which made me red to the tips of my ears as I attempted to sneak into the passenger seat. "Has anyone ever told you that you look like a tomato when you blush?" He asked.

Dio, he was going to kill me I swear. "You're the only bastard stupid enough to say something like that!" He laughed again, sending me a look that made my stomach do backflips. "I'm surprised; you really do look like one."

"Whatever. Start driving already."

Antonio hummed in response and backed out of the driveway. "Aw, I'm sorry Lovi. I didn't mean to make you upset."

"Shut up."

Apparently, that was an impossible feat. "We're still going to the children's home, right?" He asked after only five seconds of silence.

"Yeah."

"Good. I wanted to see Ana again," he noted, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. I was about to ask who the hell was that, but he continued on as if he had heard me. "You'll love her, Lovi. I know I shouldn't have favorites, but she's the sweetest little girl you'll ever meet. I think she's ten now..."

On a normal occasion I wouldn't have cared about being the pessimist, but Antonio looked so happy when he talked about this girl it made me feel guilty to open my mouth. But I would much rather him hear doubts from me than bad news from someone else. "Tonio," I began, clearing my throat a little. "Last time you remember seeing her was what, two years ago? She might not be there anymore."

Instead of deflating in disappointment, he shook his head. "She's still there."

"Uh huh. And you know this how?"

We had reached a stop light, so Antonio looked over to me, frowning ever so slightly. "Lovi, if you could choose a niño, you'd pick the perfect one: the one who is the best looking, the smartest, one who wouldn't cause you problems, sí?" I wasn't exactly sure where he was going with this, so I stayed quiet. To me the question almost sounded like: if you could choose between Feliciano and Lovino, who would you pick? The answer was obviously the good child, Feli. The light turned green and Antonio brought his eyes back to the road. "Ana has dyslexia," he murmured. "She's brilliant, but she has always struggled with reading. I guess no one wants to put up with it."

I furrowed my eyebrows and crossed my arms. "That's fucking stupid. It's not like she can control it or anything."

"Exactly!" Antonio announced, smiling at me. "I just knew you'd understand Lovi!" I blushed and turned toward the window, refusing to say anything else for the five minutes remaining.

When we arrived at Engel Children's Home, Antonio was practically bouncing with excitement, which was actually nothing short of charming. "The name is a pun," he explained, almost dancing to my door and opening it for me before I even had a chance to do the task myself. "Engel is the Dutch word for angel, and the lady who founded this, Bella's grandmother, was named Angela. She wanted this place to be a safe haven for all the children staying here. Isn't that cool?" The building looked like a normal, middle-class house, soft yellow walls with white shutters. There were flower boxes decorating the porch and a little vegetable garden to the side; nothing really made it stand out as a children's home except for the small business sign in the front yard. It was as if this Angela had wanted the kids to have as close to a normal life as possible while they lived here.

"Yeah," I said, nodding. "It's pretty damn amazing."

Antonio's smile grew as he leapt up the stairs and rang the doorbell, bouncing eagerly on the balls of his feet. I followed him at a slower pace, shaking my head and smiling at him when he wasn't looking. After a couple seconds the front door cracked open, barely revealing a teenaged boy with hair that almost put Lars and Mathias to shame. "Hola!" Antonio greeted brightly.

The kid glared at us. "Who the hell are you?" He demanded. "Leave." And with that, he flipped us the bird. I glanced at Antonio's slightly shocked face and couldn't help but laugh. That was, until he looked back at me with a grin. "Lovi, he's just like you!" The kid was literally fuming, and I was half-worried he'd try to attack us when a voice called from inside.

"Ray!" A dirty-blond haired woman rushed to the door and pulled him away from it. "How many times do I have to tell you not to open the door for people?"

The boy grumbled a vague answer and sauntered away, evil eying us the entire time. "I'm so sorry," the woman was saying as she watched him go, holding a small child on her hip. "He moved in about a month ago, and I'm still trying to figure him out and-ANTONIO!" She smiled(damn it looked a lot like Bella's) and gave him a one-armed hug.

"It's nice to see you too, Julia." Antonio turned toward me. "This is my friend Lovino Vargas. Lovi, this is Bella's tia."

"Nice to meet you, Miss," I said, offering a hand.

The woman laughed. "Please, just call me Julia," she said as she hugged me as well. "Antonio, is this the same Lovino you used to always talk about?"

My eyes widened as I took a quick step back, trying to escape the awkward situation. I silently cursed the past Antonio for his inability to shut his damn mouth, for having the urge to talk about me to fucking everyone like we were newlyweds or some shit like that. Beside me, Antonio's lips were pursed in thought as he scratched the back of his head. "Uh...I..."

Much to my relief, some kid poked his head out from behind the door and gaped at us. "Toni!" He announced, running out to hug the Spaniard. "Hey guys! Toni's back!" We barely had time to shuffle inside the house before about half a dozen other children swarmed around Antonio excitedly, smiling and talking over each other in attempt to get his attention. "Haha! Hola niños!" He greeted happily, kneeling down to pat their heads. He looked around the group curiously, then glanced back at Julia. "Is Ana still here?"

She nodded with a smile. "I think she's in her room." And with that, she disappeared down the hall.

"Antonio!" A small blonde girl gently tugged on his sleeve. "Do you like my new dress? Bella helped me sow it."

"Ah, sí. It's very-"

"Ugh! No one cares about the stupid dress Sarah!" A boy scoffed loudly. "Toni, we wanna hear stories about the army!"

Sarah's wide eyes filled with tears, but Antonio was already resting a hand on her shoulder and giving the boy a stern look. "Joseph, you shouldn't treat people like that, especially girls. I'll tell you some stories after I'm done talking to Sarah, alright?" The boy huffed but nodded, allowing Antonio to smile as he turned to the watery-eyed girl. "Now, what I was going to say is that's a very pretty dress, Sarah. I can tell you worked hard on it." By the time he was done, both children were smiling happily and sitting next to each other as he told them a quick story.

I smiled a little; he really did have a way with kids. "Hey you."

I looked down at the little brat- I mean, the kid who had opened the door- who was looking at me curiously. "Can I help you?"

The boy rudely pointed to my curl. "What the heck is that?"

I glared at him. "It's hair."

"Why is it like that?"

"None of your fu-freaking business," I huffed, crossing my arms across my chest.

"It looks weird."

"Your face looks weird!" _There you go Lovino, insult children. That's great._

Apparently, the brat didn't like my cheesy comeback, for he delivered a swift kick to my shin before storming off. "Ow!" I yelped, clutching my injured limb. "Figlio di puttana!" Stupid brat: he could actually kick pretty damn hard. He was probably on a fucking soccer team or something. I hate children: I don't know how to deal with them. Stupid Antonio, sitting around fucking cooing over them like a motherfucking hen, not paying attention to me. Stupid Bella, thinking this would get us closer!

I probably would have shouted at the idiotic Spaniard to notice my pain, but Julia came back with a brown-haired girl, who took one look at Antonio and practically squealed like a piglet and lunged into his arms. "Antonio you came back!" She cried. He chuckled and gave her a gentle squeeze. "Of course I did! I promised, sí?"

I stuck out my lip in a pout. It wasn't fair; he remembered promises he gave little ten year olds, yet he was still trying to figure out who the hell I am.

"Lovi!" The sound of my name being called snapped me out of my thoughts as I noticed Antonio standing in the middle of the sea of children. "This is Ana. Ana, this is mi amigo, Lovino."

"And that's a weird name!" The brat from earlier shouted.

I glared at him, before managing a smile for the girl Antonio had talked so much about. She smiled at me shyly and hugged my waist. "Hi. Just so you know I like your name."

My face softened as I patted her head a little awkwardly. My mind had been changed: I didn't hate kids, I just hated the brats. But in all honesty, I would not mind having a sweet little daughter, as long as I get to be the dad who chases off all the bastard suitors with a gun. I glanced up and made eye contact with Antonio, who was looking at me with a grin that said: _I told you so._ So what if he was fucking right? He didn't have to be so smug about it. Damn.

"Hey," said the brat, pointing at Antonio. "We should play soccer I've heard you can play, and the snow melted the other day." I fucking knew he played!

I wanted to shout a loud, "Hell no!" But all the other kids had already jumped on the bandwagon, including the adorable Ana, and only a heartless fuckface can say no to her. But still. "Do you think you should with your back," I asked the Spaniard. "I don't have to patience to deal with you if you get hurt and start crying."

Antonio smiled and glanced at the clamoring children, shrugging at me in a 'what can I say?' manner. "I think I'll be fine," is what he actually said.

The brat decided to speak up again. "I bet only pansies like you would cry from getting hit with a ball." I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms. You know how people say that you despise the people most like yourself? Yeah, I can testify to that. Ana pulled on my sleeve and smiled. "Don't worry, Ray's like that to everyone. He's still mad about his dad leaving him."

Dio bless that girl. She was probably the only thing keeping me from attacking the cocky little bastard. "Thanks."

Unfortunately, the brat wasn't finished. "You think you're all perfect, Ana?" He growled spitefully. "You can't even spell 'drabble' without confusing your b's and d's. You're still in second grade reading!" Aside from the small whimper the poor girl let out as she leaned closer to me, she didn't respond.

"Hey!" I snapped at the brat. I would've gone off on a tangent that would have made the kids plug their ears, but Julia decided to finally come back from the kitchen. Good thing too, because Antonio was practically fuming as well.

"Raymond," she huffed, planting her hands on her hips. "I have had enough of this behavior. Go upstairs."

The brat whined. "But-"

"Now."

The brat glared at all of us and marched away, leaving the rest of us in peace.

"Are you okay?" I asked Ana, who was wiping at her eyes. She nodded. "Yes." She looked to Antonio, who offered her a hug, and asked, "Can we play soccer now?"

He smiled. "Sure thing, chica." The other kids cheered excitedly and led the way to the large backyard, where one of the boys brought out the ball from its hiding spot as captains were strategically thought over. "You'll play, won't you, Lovi?" Antonio asked hopefully. I might have been tempted to say no, but there was a familiar tug on my sleeve. "Please?" Ana pleaded. As if one pair of puppy eyes weren't enough to make me surrender, the Spaniard had called upon his adorable henchman to double the effect. "I...uh...fine." I relented.

"Yay!"

The captains ended up being the two oldest; meaning me and Antonio. That was completely unfair, by the way, because he had a clear advantage. He had known most of these kids for years, and he had a good idea of the skill level of each of them, unlike me.

I picked Joseph, and then left it to the kid to decide who was worthy to be chosen next. Antonio teamed up with Ana of course. Damn, those kids were actually really good, not that I'm surprised. Antonio had probably hand-raised each and every one of them to be fútball pros. They actually had me running around more than I would have wanted to on the first day of January. But it ended up being...fun. A lot more fun than I had even expected.

* * *

"You fucking cheated, bastard," I grumbled, sinking deeper into the seat of my car.

Antonio laughed as if the idea was completely ridiculous. "No we didn't." He protested.

"You totally did! You fucking tackled me! We weren't playing American football you stupid idiot!"

"Lovi, I already told you I was sorry. I wasn't watching where I was going and-"

"Conveniently ran into me while I was trying to make a goal?" I demanded. "Accident my ass."

Antonio was still laughing like it would help his case as he drove to his house. "Today was fun," he said happily. "It reminded me of something: we played soccer together senior year, sí? You were on the team."

I jerked my head up and stared at him. "Yeah...because you fucking forced me. You remembered that?"

He nodded. "Yes! I also remember wanting to become a social worker after I graduated. And you were there when I told Gilbert and Francis!"

I wanted to be as excited as he obviously was about the development, but at the same time I felt a twinge of envy settle in the pit of my stomach. It wasn't fair; he did one thing with his friends and it was enough to remember all the shit he pulled with them, João took him out for a day and they suddenly start calling each other brother. As for me, it didn't seem to matter how much time I put into it, how much agonizing pain it cost me to have to sit by while, for the first time, he didn't smother me with affection. All I would get out of it all was a small memory, one that barely got the two of us any further. At this rate, I could be at this for months before he remembered everything! It was depressing.

"Lovi?"

I blinked out of my cloudy thoughts and glanced over at the worried green eyes. How long had we been sitting in his driveway? How long had I actually been out of it?

"Are you okay? You got really quiet all of a sudden."

I sighed slightly, and offered a careless shrug. "It doesn't matter." It never did.

Antonio bit his lip for a second before reaching over to gently caress my cheek, causing the skin to go red at his touch. "I think it does," he whispered. "You've told me that it pays to talk about the things that bother you. I don't want to see you upset."

Dammit, I was fighting tears again, I could tell because my lower lip kept trembling and I could feel my eyes begin to water. "What's taking so long?" I asked, trying to stifle a sob. "Why is it taking so long to remember me?"

Much to his credit, Antonio didn't seem too surprised by the question: he had probably been wondering the same thing. "I don't know," he said honestly, retracting his hand from my face as he frowned a little. "That's something I can't explain, and I'm sorry Lovi. I'm trying-"

"I know. I'm being stupid. Sorry..." He smiled sadly and leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to the cheek he had touched. "It'll be over soon, Lovi. I promise." I nodded half-heartedly.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay longer?"

"No, I have shit to take care of at home," I muttered and bid him farewell, watching as he slid out of the car and walked calmly toward the house, turning around to wave to me before he went inside. I sniffled and wiped the unfallen tears from my eyes. I had to be strong. I had to wait this out.

Because in all honesty, I would fall to pieces without that man.

* * *

 _ **A/N: I realize that this chapter wasn't exactly necessary, but was mainly written because I wasn't emotionally ready to end this story. THE NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE THE END GUYS! Oh, my gosh I think I'm tearing up…. You guys have been amazing, faithful readers and I love you all so much!**_

 _ **Thank you for being awesome!**_

 _ **Altera vita mea**_


	27. Chapter 27

_Loving a Stranger_

 _Chapter twenty-seven: Well… He's Not_ Really _a Stranger...By: Antonio Fernandez Carriedo_

Francis used to tell me that I wore my heart on my sleeve, that I got myself way too emotionally involved in relationships we all knew couldn't last. "You have it backwards," he would tell me. "By all means, be physical, be passionate- you know I support that. But Antoine, please don't offer your heart unless you're certain it will be cherished. It can only survive being broken so many times mon ami. I want more for you."

He did make some sense, and I really did want to follow his advice because Francis tended to be right about that kind of thing, but try as I might, my heart still jumped the gun every single time. Ay, the first half of high school was the worst for sure. But...last time I fully remember(which I guess would be two years ago) I wasn't this bad. I'll admit, falling for someone who in Francis' words, "clearly only wanted me for my _'belles fesses'"_ is bad- really bad. In fact, it was pretty fucking stupid as a cute Italian would say.

Lovi... How had I even gotten myself in this deep? I'm such an idiot. I virtually knew nothing about this Lovino Vargas; I couldn't tell you who he was or when his birthday was, his hobbies and his passions. The only things I knew were that he was Feliciano's older brother, he cursed a lot but he never seemed to mean what he said, and he loved tomatoes. That was pretty much it, and yet I...

I sighed loudly and propped myself up on my elbows, turning to my two best friends from across Gilbert's messy bed. They had been at this new video game for the past hour, and judging by the French swears I knew exactly who was losing. _"Baiser cette!"_ Francis suddenly shouted, tossing the controller onto the bed. "I'm done!" He turned himself around so that he was now facing me, blue eyes observing my melancholy attitude before lightly punching Gilbert out of his victory cheer. "What's wrong Antonio?"

Our Prussian friend quickly turned off the game and glanced at me too, scrunching up his face in thought. _"Ja,_ you have been unawesomely quiet today," he noted.

I slowly sat up and offered them a smile, running a hand through my hair in thought. "Well, _mis amigos..._ I seem to have a bit of a _problema,"_ I began. "I'm in love with a stranger."

They exchanged glances. "A stranger?" Gilbert repeated.

That might have been the wrong word: Lovi wasn't a stranger. I used to know him really well from what I could tell. "Maybe not a stranger. Just someone I don't completely remember."

Francis actually didn't sigh in exasperation and mutter a dramatic, "Again? Mon Dieu Antoine!" Instead he let out an "ah," of understanding, leaning back on his elbows as an easy smile formed onto his face. "It's Lovino, isn't it?"

At my nod, Gilbert's eyes widened, but instead of facepalming he looked to Francis in surprise. "You were right."

"Of course. When am I ever wrong?"

My gaze shifted between the two of them, confused by their strange behavior. It was almost was weird as the mystery that surrounded Lovino. It was true, I practically knew nothing about him, yet there was this odd sense of familiarity with him. I couldn't explain it really, but for some reason I had felt comfortable taking a siesta with someone I didn't know- well, with Lovino at least. That nickname had come to me so naturally, and it seemed to flow off my tongue as if I was supposed to repeat it over and over again. _Lovi. Lovi. My Lovi._ Was it normal to be this protective over him? To get anxious if I saw him talking to someone else, terrified that they might be hitting on him or trying to take advantage of someone as cute as Lovi. Why hadn't I even been surprised when he had unexpectedly kissed me the other night? Was it supposed to feel this perfect, the kiss of a stranger?

It was so confusing and it made my head hurt. It was like my own body was hinting at something my mind had forgotten; I had felt it that first day when he had stormed out of Francis' house. Guilt. It had settled in my gut the second I asked who he was, when his face had suddenly blanked out as he stared at me, silently asking me if I was joking. Then he had run off, and something inside me had screamed to run after him for some unknown reason. Guilt was what ate me from the inside every time I saw him cry or tear up or storm off. I wanted to be the one to protect him, to brush those tears off his beautiful face, to hug him and never let him go for as long as I lived.

"Toni?"

 _No... espera un minuto... I think I'm on to something,_ I thought. There was obviously much more to this, even I could figure out that much. It was way too deep, complex, and real to have gone on for a mere week. I...I must have loved him before. Before I had lost my memory. Oooh, this seemed to be the missing piece in the puzzle. I had been in love with him during my life before the accident. How else could I explain that familiarity, the odd way my friends were responding, that guilt.

"Antonio?"

Guilt, because this was all my fault. I had forgotten the love of my life, I hadn't even remembered who he was aside from some kid in my 11th grade English class. I was guilty of that heartbroken, furious look he had given me as he had blindly stomped out of Francis' house. All those tears he had shed, any late night he spent curled into a ball crying, wondering if he'll ever be remembered, they were my fault. I could have prevented them. There must have been something I could have done so that I wouldn't have gotten hurt. If I had been smart and had stayed safe, Lovi wouldn't be so sad, Mama wouldn't constantly stress out like she was now, no one would have to drop their holiday plans so they could fix me. _Lo siento Lovi. I am so sorry..._

"ANTONIO!" Gilbert's rough hands were on my shoulders, literally shaking me out of my reverie.

I blinked a few times, staring back at my friends before reverting to my favorite defense, plastering a smile onto my face. "Oh, _lo siento mis amigos._ I was just thinking about something and-"

 _"Nicht lügen,"_ Gilbert muttered, tightening his grip on my shoulders until his fingers grazed a healing burn and I hissed softly. He released me and quickly apologized, running his hand through his hair. "There's more to it Toni. You completely blanked out on us."

I shook my head and forced another smile. "I'm fine. Don't worry about me." Francis sighed. "Antonio, we've known you for fifteen years. You can fool almost anyone when you mask your pain with a smile, but we will always be able to see through it. _Pour nous, vous êtes un livre ouvert."_ He did have a point, he always did.

I slowly allowed the smile to ease off my face and gave them an honest look. "I know I might sound stupid," I said. "But I think I might have even loved him before- like before the accident."

At my new theory, my friends exchanged glances, as if silently asking each other if they should tell me what they already knew. Gilbert had a silver eyebrow cocked upwards and jerked his head towards me questioningly, while Francis pursed his lips in thought before he nodded once.

"You've hit the nail right on the head," Gilbert stated with a smirk. "At first, we all thought you were fucking crazy. To try and pursue Lovino Vargas sounded like an unawesome suicide attempt. We were sure that you'd end up hurt as hell. But you had your heart set on him. And after two years, your Spanish charm won him over!"

I stared at my hands, clenching them into fits in my lap. "But then I forgot him. In the end, I am the one who hurt him."

I felt another hand on my shoulder, this one was the gentle touch of our Frenchman. _"Mon ami,_ who ever said this is the end?" He asked. "If you still love him that's what's important, no? Should a forgotten past keep you from enjoying your future with him? Get up and confess to Lovino!" Gilbert bobbed his head in agreement. _"Ja!_ We'll even help you plan something!"

I blinked up at them, a genuine smile slipping onto my face. "Really?"

"Of course! It should be romantic naturally..."

"But go out with a bang! You've gotta impress the guy, Toni!"

"You're from the Country of Passion. So it should be pleasurable. Ideally, whatever you do should lead to a long, hot and passionate night of _l'amour._ "

"Weren't you just saying it should be romantic? Cuz I can see the pervy look in your eyes and it's telling me your idea will end up being kinky. Toni, you need awesome music! You can't go wrong with music!"

"Or with candlelight... Oh honhonhon..."

 _"Ich schwöre_ Francis, just because you're French doesn't mean you know more about this than I do!"

Before the two could get into a fight, I clapped my hands and leapt off the bed. "But you're right!"

"Who is?" Both of my friends asked, before shooting each other a dirty look.

"Both of you! Well...maybe not the part about...okay, not everything you said, but I do like both of your ideas." I quickly ran over to the side of the room where I had earlier set down the guitar Lovi had given me, picking it up and running my fingers over the strings. "Gilbert's right. It needs _música._ But it also needs to be romantic- it is a love confession after all. And I'm sure it can be impressive at the same time." I paused, absently playing the beginning of a random song. "A serenade? We can pick a song that is romantic, but complex as well."

Francis and Gilbert looked to each other, nodding. "That's actually a pretty awesome idea..."

"Personally, I still think candles and _l'amour_ would be gold. But I guess this is the next best thing."

* * *

So maybe it was a good idea. Just...not really thought out.

I shivered from inside my largest winter coat, staring up into the white-flaked night sky and silently asking why it couldn't be nice and pleasant like _España_. Although the snow had melted a few days ago, tonight of all nights it decided to rain down like salt out of a salt shaker. My coat was warm enough, and I had those earmuffs Bella had given me one year to keep my ears from falling off, but my nose was already starting to run, and my fingers felt like ice. It was inefficient to try to play guitar with gloved hands, so I had stupidly kept them bare.

Now I was freezing in the middle of the Vargas' yard, glancing up at the dark window Francis had pointed out as Lovi's as if my gaze alone would bring his attention out here. That was another problem. How was I supposed to get him to look outside? I couldn't necessarily knock on the front door: it was nearly midnight and the last thing I wanted was for a pajama-clad Mr. Vargas to open the door and find me standing on the step with a guitar in hand, asking for his eldest grandson. I've heard the man can get really scary when he's mad!

"Psst! Toni!"

I turned back towards the car half-hidden behind a tree, where my friends were located. They had insisted on coming along to make sure I didn't get lost or whatever. _"¿Qué?"_

"Toss something at the window," Gilbert hissed. After a moment's pause he added. "But don't throw rocks."

I nodded and turned back towards the house, glancing around for something to throw. Aside from rocks, the only thing on the ground was the growing layers of soft, but dangerously cold snow. My hands seemed to bury themselves deeper into my pockets in defiance of the very idea of touching it, and I let out a small whimper. Still, there wasn't really anything else available now was there?

Hitching my guitar higher up my shoulder, I bent down and scooped up a handful of snow. My first impulse was to drop the freezing mixture of liquid and solid, but I stubbornly bit the urge back, rolling the snow into a sloppy ball and chucking it towards the window. _Splat._ It landed at the bottom corner of my target, dripping slowly to the ground. I rubbed my wet hands together and reached for more snow, repeating the process until the third attempt, when a light finally shone from the window.

I could see a shadow move inside before a figure emerged and jerked open the window, sticking his bed-rustled head out to shoot me a glare. "Tonio? What the hell are you fucking doing here?" Lovino cursed, but even in the dim light I could see a faint blush on his cheeks.

I smiled at him and fixed my guitar, forcing my stiff fingers over the fretboard. _"Hola_ Lovi! I was thinking about you recently, and-" I paused, staring down at my frozen hands that suddenly did not want to cooperate. They were much too cold for the fast paced latin-sounding love song Gilbert and Francis had chosen. I silently cursed, trying to think of a backup plan before the Italian could slam his window shut. I needed something simple...aha!

I don't know why it came to mind, but my noncompliant fingers found the strength to stumble through the gentle notes of a nameless song, the one that reminded me so much of Lovino because like him, I only remembered part of it. It sounded incomplete and broken, I knew it was missing something, and yet this was what I had chosen to play.

There was a sharp intake of breath above me, and I glanced up to see Lovi staring back, a small fist clutching at the fabric of his shirt. _"B-bastardo,"_ he stammered. "W-why the fuck are you p-playing that d-damn song?"

I shrugged. "I wasn't planning to actually. It just happened... Lovi I-" There was a sudden slam, and the window was closed. I blinked in surprise, but I didn't stop playing. I was afraid if I stopped moving my fingers would freeze through. "Lovi!" I hissed as loudly as I dared. "Mi tomate, come back!"

Silence.

"I'm sorry Lovi."

I had lost him. I slowly broke off the music and buried my hands back into my pockets, ready to trudge back to the car so my friends could rub my failure in my face.

"Te amo Lovi. I always will."

I was turning around when I heard a soft click and a small body gingerly clung to my back, wrapping his arms around my waist. "W-what the f-fuck did you say?" He murmured, his face buried in the material of my coat.

A smile spread across my face as I turned around to face the teary eyed Italian, trying hard to resist the urge to kiss every inch of his face. "Lovi," I breathed. "I know I don't remember everything...But I know enough to remember that I love you." His hazel eyes widened as he dropped his arms and brought them back to his chest. "Lovino I love you so much and I always will. I guess if memory loss can't stop me nothing will. Maybe I'll never remember, but I can't let it stop me from making new memories with you, mi tomate."

Lovi was now crying softly, but he didn't respond. He just stared at his shoes and whimpered into his sleeves.

"Lovi...? Say something _por favor._ "

He sniffled and muttered something under his breath.

"What?"

"Y-you a -fucking asshole of a bastard."

I smiled sadly, knowing for a fact that I at least deserved that much. _"Sí,_ I know. I'm sorry..."

Lovino brought his eyes back to me and offered me a small smile. "Ti amo."

Relocating my guitar to my back, I reached over and captured the Italian in a tight embrace, peppering his head with kisses. "I love you too Lovi. Please don't cry," I murmured, gingerly cupping his face.

"CHIGI!" He shrieked, leaping out of my arms. "Your hands are fucking frozen! You're going to get frostbite, stupid _idiota!_ "

He pouted cutely, and it made my chest feel warm as he grabbed my sleeve and dragged me inside. "You won't be able to even play the shitty guitar if your damn fingers get chopped off," he lectured, leading me through the darkness of his house.

I chuckled softly. _"Mi amor,_ shouldn't you be a little more quiet?" I whispered.

"Nonno's out of town, and Feli sleeps like a fucking rock. I'll be as loud as I want dammit." He pushed me into

a bathroom and turned on the sink, letting warm water run for a few seconds before he grabbed my hands and held them under the water. I smiled and leaned over to nuzzle against his hair. "Lovi! You're so cute when you're taking care of me!"

He blushed. "Well, someone fucking has to, since you're so damn stupid you don't take care of yourself!" I chuckled and gently kissed his soft lips, causing him to sputter and swear under his breath, red to the tips of his ears.

After I could feel my hands again, he led me to what I assumed was his bedroom and shut the door behind us. "Now get your guitar ready, bastard. I want to show you something." I smirked a little and sat down on the bed.

Francis was probably laughing triumphantly in the car, saying something stupid like, "I knew this would happen! I knew little Lovino would stop resisting! Oh honhonhon!"

I fixed my guitar on my lap and strummed once, watching as Lovi reached for a instrument case from the closet. "You play viola?" I asked when I recognized the instrument he pulled out. He smiled a little and nodded, tuning it expertly before ordering me to play the song from before. Confused, I obeyed, surprised when he joined in with the deep melody of his viola.

That song...it had finally come together...the song Lovi and I had written. _Wait. We wrote this?_

 _Sí,_ I remember writing it with him. He had thought it was ridiculous, but I had begged and pleaded until he had to give in. It hadn't been just about the music. I had wanted an excuse to see him more, to watch in fascination as the adorable grumpy Italian seemed to transform into something even more beautiful, and happy even. I had wanted to be reminded every day that I was lucky enough to see this rare side of Lovino, and how special he was to me. I was absolutely in love with him after all.

Siestas were a natural effect of the hard work, and I loved to hold him tight despite his indignant protests. I wanted to memorize his scent and engrave the peaceful image of his sleeping form in my mind. I wanted to wake up to my Lovi every day for the rest of my life.

I was protective of him- perhaps overly so- because he had been hurt before. I didn't know much because Feli thought his brother should tell me, and Lovino thought it too stupid and painful to explain, but I knew that my little tomato had once allowed someone to cherish that fragile, barricaded heart of his, and they had stomped all over it. I was never going to allow some bastard to take advantage of him again. I had once broke Sadik's nose because the Turkish creep wouldn't leave Lovi alone.

I was sure he trusted me; at least he trusted me more than most people. He was never as open with me as he was with Feliciano, but he didn't run from me even after I told him I loved him. He stayed, swearing and blushing and constantly pushing me away, but he stayed nonetheless. I think he wanted to see if I myself would stay. Every once in awhile I would sneak a quick kiss to him when he didn't expect it, and although it always ended in explosive anger and maybe a headbutt, it was worth it. And those rare moments when he would begrudgingly kiss me back made me want to pass out from delighted shock.

But some of my most recent memories of him bore a sad touch of irony. I could remember holding my new boyfriend close to me and making a promise. _"I'll stay safe." "I promise, mi pequeño Lovi, I could never forget you for as long as I live."_

Lies, I recognized now. I had gone overseas and joined the army. I had ran back into the midst of danger to help a little boy. A...a building had exploded... Dios mio... The blood, the pain, the guilt...

"Antonio! You bastard!" That familiar voice was shouting at me, a touch of worry in the adorable accent.

I knew I was trembling, and when I tried to give him a reassuring smile I felt a tear trickle down my cheek.

"Fuck!" Lovi took the guitar and set it down beside me before he hugged me. "Tonio, don't cry... _per favore..."_ He murmured, running his fingers through my hair.

I didn't deserve him... Lovi should have someone who will keep their promises and give him everything he needed in life, yet he chose me of all people. I sniffled and buried my head in his chest. _"Lo siento Lovi,"_ I whispered.

"For what?"

"For breaking my promise...for forgetting..."

Lovino suddenly jerked back, staring at me with wide eyes. _"Che cosa?!"_ He sputtered. "You remember that?!"

I smiled sheepishly. "Sí. I remember everything."

His jaw dropped, and those wide eyes watered before he clenched his teeth. "What the fucking hell, bastard!" He hissed. "All I had to do was play the damn viola? Do you know how much hell I had to fucking go through for you, asshat? Dammit, I hate you so fucking much!"

"I wouldn't blame you..." I sighed.

Lovino paused mid rant and shot me a strange look. "What the hell does that mean?"

I looked him in the eyes and smiled sadly. "You trusted me, and I broke my promises. I abandoned you and forgot you and left you alone to deal with everything yourself... I should have tried harder to stay safe. Maybe I shouldn't have left at all... I'm sorry..."

"Idiotic bastard." Lovi rolled his eyes and stepped closer to me again, leaning over to plant a gentle kiss to my lips. "Don't blame yourself- you're too fucking stupid to know any better. How would we grow if we never go through hardships, eh?"

I smiled through my tears and stood up, wrapping my arms around his waist. "You still love me, _mi tomate?"_ I whispered.

"Of fucking the hell do you think kept me from getting my ass to Italy when I had the chance?"

I laughed and captured his lips again for a deeper kiss, nearly squealing in delight as his face grew bright red. I couldn't help it: my Lovi was so cute! And he still loved me!

Francis used to tell me that trials were the best way to tell who really loved you. If they stuck by your side no matter what happened, after countless fights or calamities, they would never leave. And since Lovino was still there, even after I had forgotten everything, I think it was fair to say that I was right to trust my heart to my little, foul-mouthed Italian.

 _ **A/N: Antonio remembers! *tosses flower petals around like an idiot before coughing up a lung like an even bigger idiot.* Sorry...I'm a bit sick. And by a bit I mean I have a fever...again…**_

 _ **So, this was the last official chapter, but keep those tears in check! I'm currently- well, when I get in a better state of health- writing up an epilogue, because seriously, you all deserve it.**_

 _ **So, I shall save my long, pathetic, emotional author's note for next time my lovelies. You've escaped it for now.**_

 _ **Stay awesome!**_

 _ **altera vita mea**_


	28. Epilogue

_Loving a Stranger_

 _Epilogue: 5 Months Later~_

"This is so stupid," João hisses, regardless of the fact that he is supposed to be at attention. "He was on the field for less than a month and he's getting a Distinguished Service Cross. Retarded, don't you think?" Aside from the side-glares that are shot at him from the other uniformed men and women, no one answers. Unfortunately, it doesn't stop the Portuguese as he turns to me and the others, who until now have been sitting quietly off to the side watching the ceremony. "It's like the stupider you are, the greater your reward is," he whispers. "The idiot was in training longer than he was actually out there, and yet he's getting recognized for his irrational stupidity."

We have all heard the arguments and complaints before, for João had decided to grace us with his views the second he had found out that Antonio would get an award. I roll my eyes in annoyance, ready to tell him to shut the fuck up, but Gilbert beats me to it. "Damn you're pissy," he comments. "It's almost like you're jealous of your _Bruder."_

João's eyes flash angrily, his lips curling into a sneer. "Like hell I'm jealous! I've gone back to the army and I've been there for half a year. Some of these people have been there for several years. Do you see anyone else getting metals? No." The tall burly guy next to him suddenly nudges him a warning, nearly sending the smaller man onto his face. "Sorry," he whispers, sounding decidedly unapologetic as he looks to us again.

A few seats down, Arthur groans and mutters something under his breath, while Francis scoots to the edge of his seat and haughtily returns João's look. _"Mon ami,_ there are two others receiving awards as well," he informs. "And do I recall hearing of any exceptional displays of bravery on your part? No I think not."

The Frenchman and his British counterpart are all packed to move to Paris tomorrow, and as much as I hate to say it, things won't be the same without his perverted, somewhat helpful advice and his deep outlook on life. Antonio and Gilbert had been inconsolable for weeks after they had learned of their friend's plan to finish his schooling in his home country, for shame, I guess that means their crazy fucking drink dates and drunken rampages through the nightlife are over. "Bloody hell," Arthur had grumbled. "It's not like the man is dying. He'll be back." He is secretly looking forward to the change of scenery, and I hear he's hoping on getting inspiration for a novel he plans on writing, something about frogs I think is what he had said.

Just this morning while Antonio was- for the last damn time- buttoning up his uniform, Francis had offered his last dramatic farewell to his two childhood friends. _"Mes amis_ , you have been the greatest companions a single mortal man could have asked for. We have been together through thick and thin, we have laughed in the face of authority, we have loved well, we have cried together when I was being moody, or when Antonio was getting dumped, or when Elizabeta started dated Roderich."

"I am too awesome for tears Franny! I sure as hell did not cry!"

"We have fought together went the world seemed to be against us. We have sometimes fought each other over some stupid things like broken guitars and a glass too many. My dear, dear friends, it is time to write another chapter in the book of our lives, what it will contain is your choice. But I shall give you some wisdom- and I suggest you take it because I am rarely ever wrong. Gilbert, I have a feeling that your woman is getting anxious for you to 'pop the question.' I fear that if you don't do it soon, she'll end up buying a nice ruby ring for your finger! You know Elizabeta is a take charge woman."

"Scheiße! You don't really think she would do that!"

"Do you think she will not? Now Antonio, my advise to you is to take good care of that little Italian of yours. Never forget to let him know how much you love him."

"What the fuck, bastard! I'm right here you know!"

"Sí, Francis. Gracias."

What a sappy bastard. João is now glaring at said bastard as if he wishes Francis is already on that plane to Paris. "We seem to disagree on the definition of bravery," he murmurs, ignoring the guy who is discreetly elbowing him again. "I say that nearly getting blown up is stupid and risky."

Behind me, I can hear Alfred munch on a smuggled burger. "I don't know dude, but sometimes the heroic thing to do is what others would call stupid and risky."

I hum in approval. "Hamburger bastard has a point."

It is enough to shut João up, as he rolls his eyes at our refusal to agree with him and finally brings his eyes back to the front, a proud smile growing on his face in spite of it all. He is an interesting bastard all right, but he still cares about Antonio as much as Gilbert and I care about our little brothers.

I glance down the row a bit until my eyes reach the smiling Lisboa couple. Yeah, you hear me right, Mammá Josefa married that Francisco guy a couple months ago, and can anyone complain when the woman is practically the human embodiment of a sunbeam? The two of them are just so happy and young-looking that even João doesn't voice a single sarcastic remark about being Antonio's actual stepbrother.

Beside them sits an attentive little girl of ten years old, kicking her feet in interest and leaning over to Mammá Josefa to whisper to her every so often. Ana. The apple never falls far from the tree, and I guess it's fair to say that Antonio gets his love of all things adorable from his mother. The second she had met Ana she was practically begging her new husband to adopt her, and Francisco, being the lovesick pushover he is and unable to fight giant puppy eyes that also run in the family, had agreed in a heartbeat. The long adoption process still isn't over, but it's going to work out. Antonio's already prancing around happily chanting, "I'm going to have _una hermana"_ as if he's the one adopting.

My thoughts are interrupted when my brother reaches over for my hand, squeezing it slightly as a soft "ve" escapes his lips. I'm not sure what he's thinking about, but I squeeze back anyway, glancing down at our hands, and more specifically, the band of gold encasing Feli's ring finger on his left hand. I still can't believe my brother is actually engaged to that Potato Bastard, but I'm even more surprised that I never really flipped out about the whole thing, not even when Ludwig had talked to me to get my permission.

"Why the fuck would you even ask me?" I had demanded. "You know I hate you."

Ludwig isn't the kind of asshole who tells the girl's father, "You know, it doesn't even matter what you say. The decision isn't really yours to make. See you at the wedding." Instead, he had glanced at me calmly. "I've already gotten permission from your grandfather, but I felt as though I should talk to you too. You and Feliciano are extremely close, and it would be disrespectful on my part if I proposed without consulting you first. If I had done that, then it would have justified everything you've said about me."

I still don't like the bastard: he's way too macho, he's a wurst-sucking asshole, and looking at him pisses me off. But he makes Feli happy. So, what the hell could I have done but agreed to let him cherish my little brother in those giant, potato loving hands of his?

"Antonio Fernandez Carriedo," the man with the microphone suddenly speaks up, while the uniformed guy beside him stepped foreword to pin the metal to my Spaniard's shirt. "November 2016 to December of that same year. The Distinguished Service Medal, for though he was only in service for a month, during that time he displayed extraordinary heroism to the risk of his own life." Both men salute, and Antonio returns the action with a bit of a smile sneaking onto his face.

* * *

"Lovi!" The Spaniard is disentangling himself from the others and is quickly striding toward me. "Do you want to take a walk with me before dinner?"

I shrug carelessly. "Sure. Whatever."

Antonio cheers and announces our plan before gently taking my hand and leading me outside. I think I hear the other two members of their trio calling out a "good luck" but I am distracted when Antonio leans over and pecks my cheek as we leave the room. "Te amo," he reminds me.

Just what have we been doing with our lives for the last five months, you wonder. Eh, the usual: we've been on countless dates, we took a three-week trip to Spain, we survived one or two dramatic arguments with even more dramatic makeups.

I guess the most prominent day we went through was about three months ago. Feli had been pushing me to tell Antonio about my depression and all that shit, but I had kept putting it off because quite frankly, I had had no fucking idea how I was supposed to bring it up. Nor had I wanted to. But then the idiot had ended up bringing up the subject on his own.

"Hey Lovi?" He had asked me as we cuddled on his couch.

"Hm?"

"Do you remember a few months ago, back when I was having my memory problems?"

"Fucking get on with it."

"Well...you told me that you have scars, mi tomate...I never knew that..."

I had frozen on the spot. Dammit! Why had he always paid attention to those things? If I had asked him to buy me something from the store it would had completely slipped by his thick skull, but when it had come to things I hadn't wanted to talk about his memory had suddenly grown as sharp as a fucking elephant.

"Lovi?" He had asked carefully, biting his lip with nervousness. "Did you...give them to yourself?"

Like I'd said before, I had thought facing things sucked balls. But what the hell could I had said at that point except for the fucking truth? I had seemed to curl into myself instinctively, and nodded a tad bit. "It was a long time ago," I had muttered.

Antonio had sucked in a deep breath, but had said nothing for a few seconds, he had just held me close and ran his fingers through my hair.

"Yeah I know I'm fucked up. Just say something bastard!" I had suddenly shouted, unable to handle his silence.

"May I see them?"

Fuck. I should had known he'd ask. Then again, it'd be better if he had seen them when he asked, instead of finding out while we had been making out or some shit like that. Cursing softly in defeat I had slowly stood up and unceremoniously removed my pants, sitting back down and burying my face in my hands. "There you fucking go." I hadn't wanted to see the same disappointed, hurt look that had passed over my brother's face when he had found out. What if he hadn't wanted to deal with some fucked up depressed freak? What if he hadn't wanted me? What if he had gotten up and walked out? What if he had hated me for hating myself?

"Lovi?"

I had barely heard him over my uncontrollable sobbing. I had been a fucking mess. Why would he had wanted me?

"Lovi, _mi amor,_ look at me." I had shaken my head. Gentle hands had pushed my arms away and cupped my chin, tilting it toward him so that I had been forced to look into his pained green eyes. "I'm fucking sorry, alright?" I had spat out.

Antonio had wiped the tears away and kissed me softly. "Lovi, I'm the one who should be sorry for pushing you. We don't have to talk about this now."

"N-no. Let's just get it over with," I had sighed, guiding his hand to the numerous scars littering my thighs. I had ended up telling him everything, and much to my surprise he hadn't left or yelled or anything like that. All he had done was tear up a little. "Oh Lovi! I'm so sorry!"

"Why? You didn't even know me back then."

"But I could have! I could have met you before and I would have kept you happy and would have stopped you from hating yourself."

"You're the stupidest bastard I've ever met. I know you now, and..."

"What?"

"I said you fucking make me happy you little shit!"

"Awww! Lovi I love you too!"

"What are you thinking about?" Antonio asks me now, glancing at me curiously.

"Us." I clear my throat. "I mean, don't that I give a damn."

He blinks in surprise, then smiles and kisses my forehead. Stupid bastard can never keep his lips to himself. "Really? I've been thinking about us too!"

I roll my eyes. "You think?"

"Ouch...that's not nice _mi tomate."_ He pouts like a five year old until I am forced- yes forced- to feel bad for him and peck his lips softly.

"Happy now?"

He smiles again and kisses me once more for good measure. "Sí! Lovi, you know how everyone's moving on with their lives? Francis and Arthur are moving, Feli and Ludwig are getting married, Gilbert's finally giving up on becoming a band leader."

"He's singing fucking sucked anyway."

"What about us, _mi amor._ What are our plans?" Antonio asks wistfully. "Well...after you graduate from FCAS that is."

I cross my arms over my chest. "I'm not going."

"WHAT?!" Antonio suddenly gasps and stares at me with wide green eyes. "Is this about my injuries? Lovi, I've recovered. You can barely even see my scars anymore and those headaches aren't so bad. Your dream was to go to Italy, remember?"

I shake my head stubbornly and grab his hands, squeezing them in encouragement. "Shit happens when we're away from each other," I mumble, feeling that familiar heat on my face. "I can go to a culinary school closer. I...I just don't want to fucking risk it again, dammit."

"Aww! You're so cute!" He coos stupidly and traps me in a tight embrace. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

I snake my arms around him and grab a fistful of his clothes, nodding into his shoulder. Hesitantly, I pull out of the hug and shoot him a questioning look. "Why did you bring up the whole plans for the future shit?"

He smiles nervously. "Oh. Um..." He is suddenly at a loss for words and shoves his hands into his pockets, making the cutest- I mean _weirdest_ little facial expressions.

I literally force myself not to laugh at his antics as I raise an eyebrow. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Lovi, I know I'm not the smartest man around," he begins in a rush. "I know that oftentimes I miss the entire point or I'm oblivious to things that are right in front of my face. But I really love you with every single fiber of my body Lovi. You're so perfect and you're way too good for me, no matter how many times you deny it. You're beautiful, _muy hermoso,_ you're so much smarter than me, you have so much talent and yet you're so insecure. I want you to know how much I love you, how I will always love you, and...and how I want to show you that I love you."

I want to ask him why the fuck he's being such an emotional creep, in fact he's even tearing up! What is going on with the bastard? Even as these thoughts are racing through my mind, Antonio is pulling a small black box out of his pocket. _Wait...oh my fucking..._

He smiles hopefully as he gracefully sinks to one knee, opening the box to reveal a damn ring. "Lovino Vargas, _mi pequeño tomate,_ the love of my life-"

"J-just ask the fucking question, you bastard," I interrupt, my voice wavering as tears slip down my cheeks.

"My precious Lovi, will you marry me?"

There is so much love shining in those dancing green eyes, I know I sound like a hopeless little sap, but I think my heart is about to burst or something. Happiness doesn't happen to me, I'm never really happy. But then again, I was never supposed to love again, but this stupid little asshole somehow- "Lovi?" Antonio's voice sounds unsure now, worried. Ah shit. I wipe the stupid, pathetic tears off my face and smile.

"Of course I'll marry you...bastard."

 _ **A/N: *Wiping tears away* Well my faithful, amazing readers, it has come to an end. Believe it or not, this is a huge accomplishment for me. I rarely ever finish stories without getting sidetracked, or without my plot suddenly becoming something very different from what I first planned. But I've actually completed this! And wow, I never thought it would end up so well-received. Thank you all so much for putting up with me and this emotional rollercoaster of a story for...like six months. I love you all!**_

 _ **As for my future plans...hmmm… Well, this may have been my first Hetalia story, but it will not be my last, I promise. I am currently working on brainstorming for another story involving everyone's favorite BTT, and Spamano, and FrUk, and PruCan, and all those goodies! I was also asked to write a Dennor fic too, and I am so super excited about hunting down a plot for that, because I ship them almost as hard as I ship my kind of obvious OTP, which is Spamano of course. I have actually written a Spamano oneshot, which you are welcomed to check out if you desire.**_

 _ **So long! I do hope I shall hear from you lovelies again at some point in my writing career!**_

 _ **Altera vita mea**_


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